Let Slip The Dogs Of War
by Synch
Summary: Sometimes certain situations call for a more direct approach than the Organization normally uses. That is why Bob recruited Michael, Codename: Havoc, who he partners with Elle as the Organization's clean up team. Problems get solved, and blood gets shed.
1. Chapter 1: Cry Havoc!

**February 25, 2003; Los Angeles, California**

The first thing I became aware of was is the distinct smell of blood. That coppery scent could belong to nothing else. More to the point, this was definitely blood taken from the prisoner, Adam Monroe. I think I've been here before.

Putting aside the blood scent, as it was pumped into my arm, I located two people nearby. Given my specific abilities, scent is a much stronger, and much more reliable, identifier than sight. The first member of my audience carries the subtle scent of gold. Robert "Call Me Bob" Bishop, my boss, is the living definition of morally grey; whatever needs done gets done. Along with being my boss, his ability allows him to be one of the primary financial backers of the Organization.

The other scent carries with it the tang of burnt ozone, obviously belonging to the beautiful and deadly Elle Bishop, the boss's daughter. This hyper-sexed little vixen has the ability to generate massive amounts of electricity, and revels in it. Unlike her old man, the minx doesn't waste time being morally grey. Her moral code runs pure black. Sort of like me.

Opening my eyes, I stared at the ceiling until they focused. A couple of seconds later, less than a minute after awaking, I looked around the room. I was right, I've been here before. The only object providing any color to the medical ward is the half empty bag of blood hanging from a nearby IV. Bob and Elle both stood against the far wall.

When he saw my gaze fall on him, Bob pushed away from the wall and walked toward my right side. Ignoring him for a second, I let my gaze fall on Elle. Her scent informed me she was aroused, which was unsurprising since she spends most of her time around me in that state. With her father still facing away, she ran her finger along her inner thigh before biting it with a coquettish smile.

Feeling Bob remove the IV and restraints, I sat up and watched the needle hole slowly fill in as my limited healing ability repaired the damage. Scratching the back of my neck, I looked at the bag. "Figured out how to use Liquid Adam to boost my healing yet? I'm tired of these visits every time a mission doesn't go according to plan." My voice, a low and menacing growl at the best of times, sounded worse still after being unused for better than a day.

Shrugging, Bob took the bag over to the cooler and placed it with the other bags. "Not yet, although we are still looking." Turning back around, he removed his glasses and cleaned them. While doing so, he cocked an eye toward me. "Now; I was hoping you could tell me what went wrong?"

Ignoring him, I glanced back at Elle. "My kit?"

Shrugging at the exasperated look in Bob's face, she sauntered to a nearby cabinet and pulled out three small bags. Tossing them over, she laughed. "I had to get into your room to get the clothing. What you wore on the mission was simply destroyed."

I opened the lightest one first, since it was the one that held my clothes. I could hear Elle's quiet sounds of appreciation, her scent making it even more obvious that she wanted to jump me right there, as I stripped off the brief medical gown. Grinning slightly, I deliberately faced her as I slid into the clothing. The outfit she had packed was my normal wear, black jeans, a black tee shirt, and combat boots; perfect for blending in just about anywhere.

Tossing the empty bag aside, I opened the second. Slipping into the customized duster, I also put on the Ray-Bans and half gloves. Sitting back on the bed, I opened the last bag and began checking my weapons. "What did you want?"

Controlling his temper, he repeated the question. "I'd like your report on what went wrong."

Shrugging, I laughed. "Didn't you debrief your human sparkler?"

"Let's just say I prefer as much information as possible."

"Whatever."

**February 23, 2003; Central Michigan**

Hunkered down in the middle of a forest keeping an eye on an armored compound is not my idea of a good time. Even less when it's pouring down rain, cutting even my field of vision and auditory range. Tapping the button on my headset, I whispered into the mike. "You in position?"

The disgruntled voice on the other end came back almost immediately. "I'm in place, and I'm wet." After another second, she said, "I didn't mean it that way, Havoc! I'm soaked to the bone. If I so much as spark right now it'll sting like a bitch!"

"Thus the guns, princess."

I could almost hear her eyes roll. "Daddy doesn't want us to kill the guy. He must've told me that a half dozen times."

"So shoot to maim. Anyway, Bob isn't an ops guy, sweet tits. It always comes down to bullets and blood."

"Why are we here, anyway?"

"You were at the same briefing I was, Elle."

"And?"

Scanning the area as best I could, I quietly dropped from my tree and sprinted to another with better range. "There's a guy here, Gregory Tripp, who communicates with and controls animals. He used to be Organization, until he abandoned his post and vanished several years back. From what the files said, it happened around the time Kaito and Pratt threw Adam into his cell. He didn't retire; he just vanished and started his own private army out here."

"Again, why are we here? You know as well as I do, Havoc, we're fucking clean up. Daddy only uses us when the regular Bag/Tag teams fail."

"And they did. Spectacularly. Turns out this guy has recruited some tough norms and specials. He's apparently decided that he wants to take over the Organization and run it his way, whatever way that is. Anyway, after Bob decided it was time to grab Tripp, he sent in several teams."

"How many?"

"Didn't you read that damn file?"

"What do you think?"

Of course she hadn't read the file. She never read the damned files "Three teams went in. They all came back in pieces. That's when Bob decided it was our turn."

"He wants this guy alive?"

"Beast Master comes back alive, although I suspect that won't last long. Boss man could give a damn about anyone else." Scanning the area again, I saw one of the compound's doors swing open as three men came out. "I've got movement. Anything on your end?"

After a moment's pause, she said, "Yeah. Looks like three or four going into the bunker. Shift change maybe?"

"Could be. Is Tripp with your group?"

"No. Yours?"

I watched my targets head into the barracks. "The same. He might be in the barracks, but probably the bunker."

"He'll be easier to grab without backup." That's what I love about her. She's got a great rack and a perfect ass, and the sex is phenomenal, but that pales next to her passionate lust for carnage and destruction.

"True enough. If you find him, secure him; otherwise, unleash hell." Breaking contact, I dropped from the tree and sprinted to the barracks. Keeping an eye on the bunker in case someone emerged, my pulse began to pound while my breath quickened with excitement.

With a series of acrobatic leaps, I mounted the roof. Extending my senses to their utmost, I padded across the roof until finding myself over a room that sounded empty. Hanging headfirst from the roof, I confirmed that the room was empty. Dropping to the ground and pulling out a burglar tool, I snapped the window's latch and slipped into the room.

Closing the window, I pressed against the wall near the door. Sensing nobody in the hall, I cracked open the door and slunk out. The eyes, even mine, are the most easily deceived of the senses, so I closed them and stretched out with my ears and nose as I worked down the hall. Empty room followed empty room.

Suddenly, I sensed people. Stopping in my tracks, I stretched my senses until locating five men two doors ahead of me. Sliding the snake camera from its pouch in my sleeve, I sprinted the distance and crouched beside the door. Sliding the snake under the door, I got a look at the men inside. With a grin full of blood lust, I saw that Tripp was absent.

Putting the camera away, I put together a quick plan. Deciding that guns would be too loud this early, I pulled my prize weapons from their sheaths inside my coat. Two sets of five claws, designed to fit over each finger and thumb. Molded out of metal, they retained the flexibility needed for digits, yet were sharp and strong enough to shred flesh and bone, and fastened in place with metal studs in my gloves. With a furious shout, I smashed through the door.

Three of the men were playing poker at a small table in the center of the room, while the other two were in bunks. The sleepers died first, throats torn out before they even knew I was present. The poker players scattered. Two of them ducked into the weapons closet while the third attempted to keep me busy.

When he threw a roundhouse kick, I couldn't contain a laugh. Catching the foot he obligingly provided, I snapped his ankle and leg like twigs. Dropping him to the floor, I watched him roll around in agony. "Oops."

In a profoundly contemptuous gesture, I drove my heel through his chest, pulverizing the ribcage and crushing his heart. Looking back up at the sound of weapons being cocked, I found myself staring down the barrels of twin Magnums as the survivors reentered the main room. Knowing damn well what was coming, I leapt toward them with a roar. Even as I felt the bullets burn into me, I slammed my clawed fingers into their skulls, shredding brain tissue as I ripped my hands to the sides, tearing open the skulls.

Grunting in pain, I cleaned the claws and put them away. Gently working my fingers along my chest and sides, I found where four bullets had entered. Luckily, no major organs or arteries had been hit. The bleeding was already slowing, and would likely stop within the next few minutes, but the wounds would remain for several hours. If I had to be blessed with a healing factor, why the hell couldn't it have been one like Adam's?

Exiting the room, I made my cautious way the halls. After three more visits I had a total of fifteen kills, and another half dozen bullets scattered throughout my body. It hurt like hell, so my mood was deteriorating with every step. Once my area was completely uninhabited, I contacted Elle. "Nothing's movin' here, girl. Find him?"

"I persuaded one of my guys to talk before he died. Tripp's in the main bunker."

"Good. Let's pay him a visit."

Shortly thereafter, we met up outside the bunker. Before we had a chance to say anything, we were both grabbed by the back of the neck. One heart pumping, stomach churning instant later we were on the floor inside the bunker.

"Who has Bishop sent this time?" The cultured voice came from behind me. My nose told me we had found the target; he smelled like the animals he controlled and communicated with. Looking up from the floor, I found myself staring into the muzzle of a snarling timber wolf. Glancing to the side, I saw Elle in a similar situation.

Rolling slowly to my back, careful to make no move toward my weapons, I sat up and faced Tripp. "He sent me."

Nodding appreciatively toward Elle, whose every curve was clearly visible through her drenched clothing, he said, "And her?"

"You were with the Company, jack ass, you know the deal. The teams are always one and one. Since I'm the one carrying better than half a dozen chunks of lead, and still have the ability as well as the intense desire to rip your fucking head off, that makes her the normal."

"Perhaps." Getting to his feet, he prodded Elle with one foot. "On the other hand, it was _de rigueur_ in my day for the Spec to let the Norm take the lead, frequently pretending to be the Norm."

Making a snap decision, I leapt to my feet with a shout. Grabbing the timber wolf in both hands, I let his teeth and claws shred my exposed flesh as I exerted every ounce of my strength. His back broke with a snap and I ripped him in half. Dumping the pieces on the floor, I wiped the blood from my eye and growled out, "Any questions?"

He seemed at a loss for words as he stared at his unexpectedly dead wolf. After several minutes, he looked back at me appraisingly. "Enhanced strength and, I assume, regen? I could use you."

With his focus off her, Elle glanced at me and grinned. Drawing the attention of Tripp as well as the six other men in the room, she stripped as she stood to her feet. After running her fingers through her hair, she deliberately drew a deep breath as she placed her hands at the small of her back and stretched sinuously backwards. Rolling her head to the side, she emitted a playful giggle. "Does anyone have a towel?" Throwing a smoldering look at Tripp, she ran a hand up her thigh. "I'm all wet."

Nodding at one of the men drooling over her, Tripp said, "Do it."

As the assembly spent the next several minutes entirely focused on the gyrations as she dried every inch of her body, I slowly pulled a pair of knives from the small of my back. Keeping them concealed, I slipped over to one of the guys near Elle.

Catching my eye, she nodded fractionally before spinning around and grabbing the nearest man. As she drew him into a deep kiss, she allowed his hands to explore her body. Keeping one hand clasped on the back of his neck, she ran the other one enticingly down his chest to his waist.

As her hand vanished into his jeans and began a stroking motion, I whispered into my target's ear, "This is really gonna hurt."

The man who had been under the impression that he was about to get lucky arched back, screaming in agony, as Elle unloaded better than twenty thousand volts through his balls. Immediately withdrawing her hand from his smoking trousers, she spun around and threw balls of electricity at two nearby targets. At the same instant, I drove one of my blades into the back of my target's skull and spun around, dropping to one knee, to fling the other blade into a nearby chest.

Even as I leapt at the final man, closing my fist around his throat, the remaining timber wolf ripped into my thigh. Feeling my life's blood draining from the severed artery, I crushed my targets throat and screamed for Elle to fry the wolf. I felt the heat from her discharge rip him from my leg even as I rolled over and grappled for a gun. As consciousness fled, I sighted down the barrel and obliterated Tripp's left eye.

**February 25, 2003; Los Angeles, California**

"In other words, despite my explicit orders, you killed him?"

"Well, gee whiz Bob, I just sorta decided, ya know, to hell with orders; just this once." Slamming my final gun into place, I jumped to my feet. "Christ, I was fucking dying, all right? Elle's in pretty damn good shape, but there's no way in hell she could haul my dead weight ass while corralling that fucking Beast Master. I made a split second decision to solve that problem."

He shook his head. "I don't want excuses, Michael. You fucked up the mission."

Screaming into his face, I said, "Fuck off, Bob! If you really want him so fucking bad, go get him, give him Essence of Adam, and do whatever the fuck you want with him!"

"I'm afraid that option is closed to us, my feral young friend." Spinning around at the unknown voice, hands darting inside my duster for knives, I found myself staring at a polished, urbane gentleman who seemed to be in his fifties or sixties. His identifying odor was overlaid by an unusually healthy, nearly antiseptic scent. With a smiling nod toward Elle, he said, "This charming young lady followed standard procedure and used her special gift to erase any evidence that either of you had been there. Unfortunately, in her zeal she made it impossible for us to revive Gregory Tripp."

Shrugging, with a vastly insincere smile, she said, "Oops."

"Great. Now who the fuck're you?"

Bob stepped forward and barked out, "Michael! Back down!"

Waving him off, the white haired stranger shook his head slightly and said, "That's quite all right, Robert." Extending his hand to me, he smiled again. "My name is Daniel Linderman. I'm an old friend and former partner of Mr. Bishop's."

Quickly but cautiously shaking the proffered hand, I caught a brief glimmer oft in his vaguely serpentine face. Glancing over, I caught an odd look in Bob's face. It was a combination of confusion and resignation, with a hint of loathing thrown in. Whatever was going on, there was considerably more to it than simply being old friends.

Stepping forward again, Bob looked at both Elle and I. "The two of you are free for the night. I will need to speak with you both in my office around 10 in the morning." Turning his gaze on Elle, he stressed, "You will be there, Elle. No excuses."

Rolling her eyes, she sighed and left the ward. She was followed by Bob and Linderman, who headed toward his office. Minutes later, I was at the door to my on campus apartment.

My specific abilities, although much preferable to the majority of other abilities I've encountered, occasionally call for special precautions. The walls of my apartment are all six inches thick, and filled with layers of sound proofing. It is also completely airtight. The entrance is a two-door airlock system. You input a six digit code in the hall, and the system sets up a positive pressure entrance. When it's ready, no more than a couple seconds after inputting the code, you open the first door and walk in. Once you close the first door, the pressures equalize and you can open the second one, entering the apartment. The end result is that no stray sounds or smells come in unless I bring them.

Or, at least authorize them. As I turned on my music, I realized I wasn't alone. "Who's that?"

Straightening, I laughed. "It's the London Philharmonic, Elle. I got a recording of them doing Chopin."

"You realize that you have shit taste in music, don't you?"

Turning around, I shook my head. "Did you sneak in just for the privilege of insulting my music?"

Letting the robe she was wearing pool around her feet, she smiled. "What do you think?"

Stripping out of my clothing, I walked over to her. Taking her chin in one hand, I tilted her head up to meet mine as our lips pressed together. Running my hands along her body, her breathing grew heavier, and she began to quietly moan in excitement, as the petting grew heavier and more intense. Breaking it off with a slight jolt to my lips, she dragged me to the floor. As she mounted me, our bodies joined in a violent passion that obliterated all thought.


	2. Chapter 2: The Game's Afoot

**Unknown Date; Unknown Location**

Cold.

Damp.

Dark.

The pain and blood wake him. Both come from lacerations covering his body, and from the shackles digging into his wrists and ankles; keeping him inside the kennel. His food is moldy bread and foul water.

As he passes out yet again, he whimpers, "Daddy?"

**February 26, 2003; Los Angeles, California**

As ordered, Elle and I were at the office by 10. When I rapped on his door, Bob barely glanced up and waved us in.

Linderman, on the other hand, turned on the charm. After pouring coffee and offering us breakfast, he gestured to the nearby seats. After several minutes of small talk, carried primarily between Elle and him, he got down to business. "You have both, I am certain, been given the standard Company line; how it was formed years ago by a group of like minded individuals who realized that there was a need-"

Rolling her eyes in irritation, Elle interrupted. "We get it, all right. I could recite that damned mantra before I was in fucking High School. Don't waste my time with the same shitting song and dance. What do you want?"

Smiling, he leaned back in his chair. "First, let me say that I am primarily a collector. I have found that art, in all its forms, tells a story that, in many cases, the artists themselves are unaware of."

Pushing a button on the remoter in his hand, his eyes seemed to light up with a disturbing passion as a painting filled the monitor. The level of detail in the image was astonishing; as if someone had taken a photograph and run it through PhotoShop. It depicted a major battle between a blonde woman, a black haired man, and a bald giant of a man. The blonde was dressed in a flowing, windswept, white robe, with the hem ending mid thigh, as well as the arms and a significant portion of the upper torso and breasts bare. Thick bolts of red, blue and yellow lightning wreathed her arms in discharge as they exploded from her palms toward the giant. Sparks flew from her fingertips and flashed from her eyes. Her face was cast in a furious combination of rage, hatred, and determination. Most noticeably, her face was clearly Elle's.

Her black haired companion was wearing nothing more than a black loincloth, his bare chest was coated in blood and covered with open wounds. In one hand, raised as if to be thrown, was a spear. His other hand held a long knife low and with the edge up. The look on his face was one I instantly recognized; a look of undisguised, feral rage. The eyes, narrowed even as the nostrils flared, were pure white, sealing the resemblance the face held to my own.

The giant was profoundly disturbing. According to the painting, he topped out at half again my own six-five, and was thick enough to make at least two of me. His head was thrown back in apparent laughter. His outthrust arms, corded with muscle, were also sheathed in lightning, twin bolts of which rushed out to slam into Elle's attack, creating a dramatic explosion. His robes, reminiscent of those worn by Da Vinci's Zeus, were riddled with gashes, holes and tears, many of which gave ample smoking tribute to the accuracy with which she placed her shots.

Linderman watched as we took in the details. He smirked when we recognized ourselves. Typically, Elle did her best to appear unshaken. "What's the big deal? It's just some stupid painting. It actually looks like something that Mendez moron would put in that idiotic _9__th__ Wonders_ comic for the idiots to drool over."

Apparently amused, Linderman leaned back in his chair. "It is ironic that you should say that, my dear. I have recently begun to acquire some of young Mr. Mendez's work. I have reason to believe that he and the man who painted this piece share a similar gift; and I am not just speaking of their artistic ability.

"No; the artist responsible for this particular piece was named René Claríon, and was a little known French contemporary of Leonardo Da Vinci. Over the years I have managed to locate and acquire a large amount of his work, not strictly limited to his paintings, and he has an accuracy Nostradamus would envy."

Laughing derisively, I crossed my arms. "You think this guy was some sort of prophet?"

"That is not the precise term I would use, Michael, but we do believe him to have been a Precog. He titled this piece _Dieux À La Guerre_, or Gods At War. I prefer the French title, it sounds much more poetic."

Shifting in his seat, Bob interrupted. "Before filling you in on the mission, Dan requested a small test. He wants to see just how good the two of you are."

Elle glanced back to Linderman. "Don't you believe the reports?"

"Let's just say that I prefer to witness your work firsthand, as it were."

Jerking to my feet, I headed for the door. "Fuck that. Fry 'em, Elle."

"What?"

At the door I took a deep breath. "Light 'em up. Maybe then we'll get some fucking answers."

Stalking over to me, she whipped me around, and came as close to in my face as her five-two would allow. "If you think for one fucking minute that I'm going to torch daddy and his friend, you're fucking crazier than they say I am!"

With a frustrated growl, I shoved her aside. Ripping out one of my pistols, I drilled bullets through both of their heads.

Elle recovered and grabbed my forearm, looking in horror at Bob and Linderman. As she shot electricity through it, the skin began to blacken and crack. "What in the fucking hell do you… think… you're… doing?" The last few words came out in slow confusion as she realized that neither Bob nor Linderman had fallen. "What the hell's going on?"

Linderman looked at me in puzzled curiosity. "How did you know?"

"That you weren't really here?" Walking to an apparently empty chair, I shot out my left hand and grabbed the woman I had scented earlier by the throat. As her concentration evaporated, Bob and Linderman seemed to vanish, and she became fully visible. Slamming her against the wall, I used the damaged arm to hold my blade against the lower swell of her left breast. Over the years, I've learned people who would charge a loaded gun frequently piss their pants if facing a blade. "The same way I knew you were here, bitch!" Leaning my head against the wall so that my lips brushed her ear, I kept my voice at a low whisper. "Tell me where they are or Linderman has to find a new fucktoy."

Gasping, she said, "They didn't say. Mr. Linderman gave me a note to give you if you figured it out."

Dropping her to the floor, I put the knife away. As she leaned against the wall rubbing her throat, I bent back down. "Listen to me closely. If you so much as bounce your fucking tits without my okay, me or Elle'll kill you. You know that, right?" When she nodded, I grunted. "The same obviously holds true if you're lying. Now, where's that damned note?"

Nodding toward Bob's desk, she sighed. "It's over there, on top."

Looking over my shoulder at Elle, I said, "Watch her."

Flopping into the vacated chair, she flashed an evil grin. "With pleasure."

At the desk, I found the note right where she had said it was. Unfolding it, I sat in Bob's seat as I read. A few minutes later, I looked at Elle. "She was telling the truth."

Appearing crestfallen, Elle looked over at me and extended her hand toward the woman. "You mean I don't get to…?"

Shaking my head, I said, "Nope."

"Not even just a little?"

Containing a laugh, I shook my head. "Sorry, Elle."

With a huff, she crossed her arms and slouched, pouting, further into the chair. "I never get to have any fun." Catching my amused look, she pushed her hair out of her face. "Well?"

"'Well' what?"

Rolling her eyes, she sighed. "What'd that geezer have to say?"

Leaning back in the chair, I read the note.

"The fact that you are reading this indicates that the two of you have passed the first portion of the test. Congratulations. (I do hope you left Bridgette unharmed. She is, at the moment, irreplaceable.)

"The situation is quite simple. I have persuaded Robert to go into seclusion with me. We are still on the grounds, somewhere, but it is going to require a certain amount of effort to locate us.

"There are a few clues and directions scattered throughout the facility, in the keeping of people I brought with me while Michael was recuperating.

"I would recommend that you think of this as a scavenger hunt, but Robert informs me that Michael, in particular, does not enjoy such games. A shame that. Instead, I'll just recommend that you go to the training center in search of the one man Elle cannot beat."

Looking over at Bridgette, I asked, "Is this everything he gave you?" When she nodded, I scratched my slowly healing arm in thought. Squinting at Elle, I asked, "What was the one physical problem you could never beat in training?"

"What the fuck does it matter?"

Thinking about it for another minute, a thought occurred to me. "On the Tripp mission, you said something about getting wet. Water's your enemy. You can't so much as spark if you're wet."

"Of course not, dick head. It fucking hurts."

Standing up, I tossed the note into the trash. "In that case, we need to hit Research and Development before heading to the training area."

Most of an hour later, we were standing outside the training facilities. Closing my eyes for a minute, I located the scent of the one person who didn't belong. His distinctive aroma carried with it the slight tang of salt water. Looking at Elle, I grinned. "He's here."

Impatiently pushing through the door ahead of me, she came to an abrupt halt and began radiating an almost animalistic lust. Her voice came out in a soft purr. "Oh, yummy!"

Rolling my eyes, I pushed past her. "Keep your hormones in check, Elle. You can bang him later. Right now we need answers."

As we approached, I had to acknowledge that, if the Organization held recruitment drives, this man would be the poster boy. He stood around six two, with shoulder length blonde hair and piercing blue eyes. Having apparently just finished in the pool, he was wearing a miniscule pair of trunks that Elle couldn't keep her eyes off, and a towel draped around his shoulders.

His arms, legs and chest showed the kind of muscular development that would make professional wrestlers jealous, and you could scrub laundry on his abs. When he saw us headed toward him, he flashed a too-perfect smile. "Elle and Michael?"

When I nodded, he threw out his right hand. The hand and arm vanished as a deluge of water emerged, completely soaking both Elle and myself. In that second, Elle went from admiring his package to inventing curses. Dropping his arm as it resumed normal appearance, his smile grew broader. "Mr. Linderman told me the two of you might have some questions. If you can beat me, I might have some answers for you." With a quick laugh, he finished. "Good luck with that."

Flashing a feral grin, I pulled out one of my pistols. "Good. You chose the fun route." Taking quick aim, I fired a round into his abdomen.

Shaking his head in disbelief, he assumed his water form before the bullet could hit him. "Did you really think I had forgotten my weapons training?"

Putting the gun away, I unlimbered the small spray canister I was carrying on my back. Pointing the nozzle at him, I said, "Nope. I was actually counting on you to do precisely what you did." After unloading the canister, I dropped it to the floor.

I watched as his watery form quickly hardened into a stiff, glutinous substance. Slowly turning his head to face me, he demanded, in a voice thick with panic and more than a little discomfort, "What the fuck'd you do?"

"A little magic from the boys and girls in R and D. That bullet was actually a short term neurotransmitter designed to prevent your becoming solid again. The spray was a glue compound with a cement base. Once it came in contact with your liquid form, it stuck."

"How long?"

Ignoring him for a second, I looked at Elle. "You're no good this way. Hit the changing area, dry off, and grab me a towel too." While she did that, I looked back at water boy. "I'm sorry. Did you ask something?"

"How. Fucking. Long?"

"Well, that's where it can get a little difficult. As soon as you tell me what I want, I'll get someone to haul you to R and D. They have a solvent down there that should set you right pretty quick." Pulling out a knife, I began tossing it from hand to hand. "This compound has a fascinating little side effect. It hyper-sensitizes your nerves. Things you would barely have felt earlier, now cause extreme discomfort. Those things that would have caused you pain, on the other hand, become excruciating." Fixing him with a cold stare, I asked, "Do you understand?"

Putting the knife away temporarily, we waited for Elle to finish. About ten minutes later, she sauntered out of the locker room. Instead of the tight jeans and low-cut, white blouse our guy had drenched, she was now wearing a tiny black and white thong bikini, with a microskirt wrap slung around her hips, and stiletto sandals. She carried her wet clothing in a small shoulder satchel, and I could tell that, even though he couldn't actually move, she suddenly had his complete attention.

Smiling wickedly, she tossed me a towel.. "Anything from Wet And Delicious?"

Drying myself off, I shrugged. "Thought we'd wait for you." Turning to face him, I scratched at my mostly healed right arm. "Let's start with an easy one. What's your name?"

"Timothy Rockwell."

"And where are Bob and Linderman?"

'I don't know."

Elle glanced at him hungrily. "Fine, tell us what you do know."

"It's not that simple. Orders."

Rolling my eyes, I pulled my knife back out. "They want us to play their fucking game?" When he answered positively, I swore and grabbed his shoulder. "Fine. But we do it by my fucking rules." Flipping the knife around, I slammed the hilt into the nerve cluster just in from my grip. While he shrieked in agony, I repeated the attack on the opposite shoulder. Looking into his agonized face, I coldly waited for his screams to subside. Looking into his eyes, I whispered, "My rules are simple. As long as you talk, and are completely honest, nothing happens. If you clam up, or I suspect you're lying to me, I make you hurt in ways that make what just happened seem pleasurable. Now, what the fuck did they tell you?"

"The answer's in the fucking library, all right? Linderman brought another guy down. He's the one holding the location."

"Any special tricks?"

"I'd assume so, but they didn't tell me anything about it."

All the indicators told me he was being honest. Looking at Elle, I put the knife away. "Let's go."

"Hey! You said you were gonna take me to the labs!"

"No. I said I'd have someone do it. Since nobody's here, I'll have to find someone. I sure as hell ain't hauling you down there myself."

Turning to leave, I heard Elle whisper to him, "When they get you free, come up and see me. I think we could have some fun."

After calling R and D to let them know their prize was ready, we headed to the library. Outside the door, I stopped and tried to locate our next, and hopefully final, target. After a minute I found him. According to his scent, he was a middle aged metashifter, able to become any animal he desired. Their were enough overtones of the eagle in his scent to indicate a fondness for that particular shape.

Opening the door, we saw him seated at a small table in the center of the floor. In his early fifties, bald and wearing a cheap suit, he looked like a book keeper. Gesturing toward a pair of chairs across from him, he cleared his throat. "Please, have a seat."

After we had done so, he took a small envelope from his suit jacket and set it on the table in front of him. "My name is Arvin Bancroft. As you have, no doubt, surmised, this envelope contains the final instructions from Mr. Linderman and Mr. Bishop."

Tapping my fingers on the table, I muttered, "I can hardly fucking wait."

With a wry grin, Arvin finished. "You can have the envelope and its contents, provided you accomplish the final task."

Elle crossed her arms, nearly pushing her breasts out of the tiny bikini top. "And what would that task be?"

Clearing his throat uncomfortably, his eyes focused on her almost completely exposed attributes, he mumbled, "The final task is a riddle game."

Jerking to my feet, I swore. "How many fucking times do I have to say it? I don't play games!"

"You don't have a choice, Michael. If you refuse, you don't get the envelope. Without the envelope, you will not find them. If you fail to find them, you fail the test and will not be given the mission."

After a second's thought, and a quick glance at Elle I sat back down. "All right, but I ask the first riddle."

"Agreed. Now, the rules are fairly straightforward. We ask each other a series of riddles, alternating turns naturally. The first person to fail on three riddles loses. Do you understand?" When we nodded, he told me to begin.

With an evil grin, I growled, "What's blue and white and yellow, and hurts like a mother?"

After several minutes of thought, he reluctantly admitted, "I have no clue."

Leaning back in my chair, I turned my head, "Elle?"

With a smile, she launched a small ball of lightning across the table into his chest. It threw him from the chair to the floor, where he lay twitching uncontrollably. Grabbing the envelope from the table, I crouched down beside him and growled into his ear, "I fucking told you, Arvin; I don't play games!"

Standing back up, I ripped open the envelope and read the brief note. Swearing sulfurously, I threw the note onto the floor.

"What's the deal, Michael?"

"They want us back in Bob's office."

Staring at me almost accusingly, she said, "You said they weren't there!"

"They weren't. Apparently they are now." Slamming through the door, with her running to keep up, I kept a stream of curses going. "They better have a Goddamned good explanation, or I'll fucking kill them both!"

Ten minutes later, we burst into the office. Bob was seated behind his desk, scowling at the monitor. Linderman sat nearby with a disturbingly fascinated look on his face. It was displaying Elle taking out Arvin. As soon as the door slammed against the wall, alerting them to our presence, I demanded, "What the FUCK is going on here?"

Linderman turned toward us, his face broadening into a grin. "Please, be seated."

"Why?"

Gesturing toward a pair of cushioned seats nearby, he laughed for a second. "Because I think it is about time for us to talk."

Grunting, I dropped into one of the chairs. "You damned well got that right."

Turning off the monitor, he turned back to face us. "I'm certain you have questions. Feel free to ask them."

Elle leaned back in her chair, relaxing into the cushion. "What was behind this whole charade?"

"It was simply a bit of a test, my dear."

Squinting at him, I asked, "A test?"

"Certainly. I have read your files, and have looked through the reports concerning your missions. None of that told me what I needed to know, so I devised this little game. I must say, I am impressed. I expected you to win, naturally, but neither this quickly nor this overwhelmingly." Pausing for a moment, he folded his hands together and peered at me. "I must ask, however; was it truly necessary to fry poor Bancroft?"

With a flat stare, I answered, "Yes."

"I see." After several minutes of uncomfortable silence he smiled and relaxed into his chair. Looking into my face he said, "There is nothing you are unwilling to do, either of you, so long as it aids in completing your mission, is there." It wasn't a question so much as an observation.

Coldly returning his stare, I shrugged. "That's why Bob uses us. Now, why the fuck're we here?"

"Indeed." Turning the monitor on, he pulled up _Dieux À La Guerre_. "As you should remember, this piece was done by the French artist René Claríon, whom we believe to have been a Precog.

"I have had this piece in my collection for several years, but it is only recently that it came to be of importance." After he pressed a button on the remote, the picture on the monitor changed. The photo of a bald man, identical to the one in the painting, now dominated the screen.

At this point, Bob took over the meeting. "Meet Claus Bernhelm. Normally, he stands six foot even, and weighs in at around one hundred and sixty pounds."

Elle glanced at her father in surprise. "What do you mean by 'normally'?"

Not surprisingly, he acted as if he hadn't even heard her. "Claus is in his early thirties. When he was eighteen he worked construction in Philadelphia. He'd been on the job for approximately nine months when he fell from a girder better than thirty feet in the air. Instead of dying, or even being injured, he grew six inches and put on about seventy-five pounds. The seeming miracle was published all over the city for months.

As luck had it, we had an agent in the area, on an unrelated matter, who heard the stories about the incident. When we received the agent's report, we assigned a team to observe the potential manifestation. Fortunately, an apparent heart attack made it possible for our team to collect him. Once he was stabilized at the local hospital, he was brought to our New York facility."

Here, Linderman reclaimed control of the briefing. "Once we had him there, we began the evaluation process. After several months, we knew not only what he was capable of, but also his limitations.

"It turned out that he was an Energy Converter; the first we had ever encountered, although our scientists had theorized the potential for this manifestation to occur. He has the ability to turn kinetic energy, such as that received from falling thirty feet, into body and muscle mass. He is one of the only Specials we have encountered who is capable of sky diving without a parachute and surviving; all he does is gain both height and weight. As he grows larger, his skin thickens, rendering him more resistant to physical harm.

"His ability also allows him to handle directed energy, such as Elle's lightning bursts. He absorbs the energy, biochemically alters it, and then wields it. He can retain the charge for a limited time, but cannot keep it contained for more than a handful of days. The more he absorbs, the less time he is capable of holding it.

"He must find some way to release the energy in a timely fashion. If he does not do so, he risks death."

Clearing my throat, I asked, "And this concerns us why?"

Again pressing the button, he brought up several images of complete carnage. "Last week he massacred his partner and a half-dozen other agents. He fled the facility and we have been unable to locate him since."

Elle raised an eyebrow. "Wasn't he tagged?"

Bob cleared his throat. "For a variety of reasons, the decision was made to leave him untagged."

Rubbing my freshly healed arm, I looked at the monitor. "I'm the last one to sell myself short, but do you honestly think the two of us have a shot at dropping him?"

With a small nod, Linderman smiled. "Absolutely. He does have one great weakness; if he is overloaded, he will lapse into unconsciousness. And I can think of no team currently on the payroll as capable of that as you and your charming partner."

Looking back at the photos, I grunted. "So we're headed to New York?"

Bob cleared his throat. "Actually, the facility he broke out of was located in Odessa, Texas. We have a cover operation there under the auspices of Primatech Paper Company. I currently have Special Documents creating a cover for both of you as Debt Recovery Officers from the national headquarters. The documents should be here in the morning."

Standing to leave, I looked over at him. "When do you want us here?"

After a quick glance at Linderman, he checked his computer. "No later than 6:30 in the morning. Until then, you are both off duty."

**Unknown Date; Unknown Location**

Exhausted from yet another harsh day, he lay curled against the bars of his kennel. The pain from the lacerations a constant, unyielding, companion. On the other side of his cage the tray, where his daily bread should have been, remains empty.

The sound has been present for several minutes before he cares enough to place it. The unmistakable skittering of tiny claws on the concrete floor, combined with constant squeaking.

Ears attentive, he waits patiently. Finally, attracted to the scent of blood and filth, the rat sniffs along his body. Darting out his hands, he grabs the rat by its hindquarters and crushes its small skull with his shackled wrist.

Biting into the thin body, he sinks back against the bars as tears carve their way down his cheeks.


	3. Chapter 3: Awakening

**February 27, 2003; Los Angeles, California**

Reaching Bob's office about 15 minutes early, I decided to wait for Elle in the hall. Suddenly, I heard him swearing. After another couple seconds, I realized he was in the middle of a phone conversation.

"Jesus, Daniel. It wasn't supposed to go this fucking far!... Yes, I know it was a test… Yes, I remember agreeing to it… Fuck it all, Daniel! You were supposed to have someone nearby to stop that asshole from killing one of our best agents… Don't give me that shit! I had an agent working in that hospital, Linderman. I know exactly what that animal did to her… Why? Do you have any idea how much money and time went into raising her to be the agent she is?... Christ, Daniel, are your brains turned fucking off?... Do we at least have her?... Why the fuck not?... As soon as possible, get her the fuck out of there!... You have a plan in place to extract her, then?... This better work, Daniel… You know what'll happen, don't you, if she wakes up?... That's right; she'll freak out and end up killing everyone in a fucking ten mile radius! That'd throw the whole secret right out in the open… Just get her… I don't care how many have to die, or how many brains you have to turn into Swiss-fucking-cheese… Your damned game almost cost us Noonan… If she dies, I'll turn you into gold starting with your goddamned balls!... Fine. Keep me in the loop on this, Daniel."

As he hung up the phone, Elle came barreling down the hall, tucking in her blouse. "Am I late?"

Glancing at my watch, I shook my head. "About 5 minutes early, actually." Catching her scent, I laughed. "Company last night?"

With a wicked grin, she said, "And this morning." Grabbing the door handle, she looked at me over her shoulder. "Elle went on a water ride, all fucking night baby." With a short laugh, she opened the door.

Glancing at Bob as I followed her to our seats, I realized he looked extremely preoccupied and a little worried. After a few seconds, he cleared his throat and looked up. Tossing a pair of manila envelopes to me, he rubbed his forehead. "Those are all your cover documents. As you were told last night, you're both covered as Debt Recovery from the corporate offices.

"Find Bernhelm. Try to bring him back alive. If that's not possible, he is not allowed to run free. Am I understood?"

Shrugging, I handed Elle her envelope. "In other words, he comes back either asleep or in a bag." Grunting out a laugh, I thumbed through the identity I had just been given; Michael Bell. "Next time, just say it. This pussy footing around always pisses me off."

Glancing at his watch, he stood up. "Do the job and get back here. I don't know all of what Daniel's up to down there, but don't get involved, understood?"

When we nodded, he continued, "Your primary contacts will be Bennet and the Haitian. You may also have to work with Thompson. Be a little careful of him. Bennet and the Haitian are Company men; they follow orders and do whatever's in the best interest of the Organization. Thompson is playing game of his own, and I haven't quite figured it out yet. He's willing to follow orders, but he's definitely working a scheme of some sort."

Buttoning his jacket, he shrugged. "You're lead on this, Havoc. Your plane leaves in thirty, so get your stuff together."

**Unknown Date, Unknown Location**

How long has he lived in this cage? The darkness has become a close companion, even a friend.

He remembers a time when he could lay stretched out in the cage, barely touching either end. How long ago was that? Now he has to curl up to fit. The steel cuffs on his wrists and ankles, and the leather collar around his neck, are growing tight again. Is this the third set? Or is it the forth?

He's stronger now, too. He remembers when his work nearly killed him. Now, even half starved, the loads seem lighter, the work easier.

He remembers a time when sight, sound and scent were limited. Now he can smell the rats that have learned to avoid him. When he is where sight is an option, he can see the individual leaves in the distance. Most disturbingly, he can hear the screams emanating from the hidden chambers where the girls and young women the Master purchased and captured for pleasure slaves are kept; and where the Master's pleasure frequently results in the death of the more stubborn playthings.

Carefully touching his back, running his fingers along wounds left by Master's whips and blades, he realizes that one other thing has changed. Old scars have vanished, and new wounds heal much faster than ever before.

Despite those changes, one thing has remained the same; he still has no knowledge of who he is. He vaguely remembers, as if from a half-forgotten dream, that he once had a name. The time of his enslavement, however, has eradicated all memory of what it might have been.

Now he is one of Master's Dogs. Though the only one kept here, he knows that at least three more are kept on the grounds. The life of a Dog isn't pleasant, but better to be a Dog than a Bitch.

He's seen what the Master does to the Bitches. He and the other Dogs have been forced to bind and chain them, and have occasionally been forced into participating. The Master derives almost as much pleasure from watching the Dogs rape and torture the Bitches as when he does it himself.

As in all things, failure to comply with the Master's demands in his Pleasure Chamber brings beatings. He has watched, along with the other Dogs and Bitches, as the Master beat one Dog to death. As intended, it left an impression.

The others took the lesson to heart. Their beatings became rarer as their will was crushed. His will was not crushed. His obedience is born not of fear, but of patient resolve. Always on his mind is the thought of escape.

**February 27, 2003; Odessa, Texas**

Noah Bennet and the Haitian were waiting when Elle and I arrived at the small airport. After our bags were transferred, we got into the back of the Company limo.

Noah handed us each a slim folder. "This is everything I was able to get together on Bernhelm. How much were you told?"

Thumbing through the folder, I made a mental note that there was a lot that had not been included. Shrugging, I said, "Looks like the briefing we were given covered pretty much the same bases; name, height, weight, the nature of his ability and why they were sending us after him." Reading the file a little closer, I noticed a glaring omission. "Not a single disciplinary note? Weren't there any indications that he was becoming unmanageable?"

Noah shook his head. "Nothing I've been able to find anyway. There's nothing in his file, or in his partner's, that indicates anything like that."

Closing the folder, I looked directly at Noah. He'd aged a bit from when he'd helped train me, but it had primarily served to make him more competent and dangerous. "You're looking good, Noah. How's the family?"

He laughed. "Not bad. Lyle's pretty much the same as always, quiet and a bit shy. Claire's about to start High School, which is causing some problems for Sandra."

"Oh?"

"She wanted so desperately to get pregnant, and the doctor's kept saying it wasn't going to happen. When I brought Claire home, it was like Sandra'd been given a new lease on life. The fact that we ultimately had Lyle naturally, which confused the doctors, didn't diminish in any way her love of Claire. She's not ready to let her grow up. Sometimes I think that's why she spoils Mr. Muggles the way she does."

After a couple minutes, Elle glanced out the window. "Where'd they put us?"

I knew Noah he had never cared for her, even though he pitied her for reasons I never fully understood. It surprised me a little, although I guess it shouldn't have, that he was able to that from his face and voice. "The Company owns the penthouse in a local condo. On paper, it's for Primatech executives when they're in town. You two will be staying there while you're here."

Slipping the folder into the briefcase I had brought with me, I leaned my head against the back of my seat. "Good. Do we have a car?"

Tossing over a set of keys, he grinned. "Black Cadillac; space three-sixteen in the garage."

Looking through the keys on the ring, I raised an eyebrow at him. "No key to the condo?"

The Haitian handed keycard to both of us. Noah glanced at him curiously for a second, and then shifted in his seat. "The code you'll need is pound-three-one-six. The same cards will get you into the sub-basement at the Primatech facility. Any extra codes you may need will be provided there."

"Good. We'll get settled in and meet you there in a couple hours."

After we parked, Noah and the Haitian helped me carry in the bags while Elle went in ahead to check out the penthouse. After she had disappeared from sight, I looked at the Haitian. "She doesn't know you can talk?"

His face remained impassive as he looked at me. "No. There has been no need."

"Why'd you let me know, then? It's obvious you don't want it commonly known."

"Because you had need of help in leaving the darkness and God placed me in your path."

**Unknown Date; Unknown Location**

His thoughts are interrupted by the single light bulb being turned on as Master enters the kennel area. Since Dog was left unchained, Master opens the door and orders him out. He stands still as Master affixes the shackles to his ankles and his wrists, with the connecting chain attaching the shackles to each other and his collar.

They walk up the stairs, Master following Dog. Inside the house, Master leads him to the Pleasure Chamber.

In that room, the two newest in his stable of Bitches lay dead. The gashes, cuts and bruises covering their ravaged forms give mute testimony to the agonies and humiliations they suffered before their cruel deaths.

Master orders him to clean the mess, and to dispose of the Bitches in the special incinerator. It is not the first time he has cleaned this room for Master, but something inside snaps. Instead of hastening to follow Master's orders, he stands and stares at the bodies.

Master begins cursing, and yanks down a heavy, barbed whip from the wall. He begins to beat Dog repeatedly, growing angrier with each stroke. Dog stands, seemingly impassive, beneath the onslaught, refusing to move, or even blink. He welcomes the pain from Master's whip. Each lash serves only to stoke the flames of rage.

After several minutes, Dog completely snaps. All thought vanishes. With a roar of complete and absolute fury, he breaks the chains and whirls on his former Master, attacking with an unexpected brutality.

After half an hour of mindless carnage, the unthinking fury dissipates. He looks around the blood spattered room with something akin to pleasure. His former master's lifeless corpse, beaten, broken and shredded, lay mostly at his feet, barely recognizable as having once been human; rendered down to so much meat. The blood splashed across the equipment, and smeared along the walls, gives ample evidence of the violence with which he had been slaughtered.

The boy once known as Dog takes a long look at his blood-coated, unclothed body. With a feral smile, he pushes his hair out of his face, as he remembers one of Meat's favorite comments; a quote it shouted at the beginning of the Dog fights it and others like it held.

It would sit, accompanied by two or three of the most obedient and presentable of its Bitches, on the sidelines of an enclosed arena. Wooden Dog cages would be wheeled in from opposite sides. Before the cage doors were opened, Meat would stand, raise the glass handed to it from one of the nude Bitches, and toast the games with the quote, "Cry havoc, and let slip the Dogs of war!"

It fit so perfectly, and the boy laughed in vicious glee. Looking down at Meat, he growled out, "Dog is dead. I am Havoc."

**February 27, 2003; Odessa, Texas**

"Fuck! One guy did this?" Elle's exclamation mirrored my own sentiment. The room had been virtually destroyed, almost as if a small bomb had gone off.

It had been a standard debriefing room; four walls, a ceiling and floor, a single long table with several chairs. The table had been, at one point, bolted to the floor. Now it was scattered around the room in several pieces after apparently being used to batter down one of the walls. Another wall had been destroyed by some sort of energy discharge; scorch marks from similar discharges could be clearly seen around the room.

The remaining area had been severely damaged not only by the energy discharges, but also by what seemed to have been something large and heavy, or at least thrown with extreme force, crashing into it. There were cracks from floor to ceiling, along with larger burn holes scattered along the walls. There were also large chunks from the walls and ceiling strewn around the floor.

The whole area actually looked about like what I'd expect to see if Elle and I ever had a real fight.

Closing my eyes, I let my nose explore the area. Setting aside the scents belonging to the four of us, I attempted to read deeper. The problem was that the scents in the room were all several days old, and there had been several people combing through this area since. I could smell fear, betrayal, rage, murder, hatred, blood-lust and death quite clearly, but was unable to place them in any sort of coherent order. After several minutes I gave up and looked over at Noah. "I need a couple things, Bennet."

"What?"

"Anything you have that belonged to Bernhelm. Preferably clothing, but at least something no one else would have touched." At his questioning look, I shrugged. "I need something to separate his scent from everyone else's. At the moment, I've just got a confused mess in here."

"All right. What else?"

A thought hit me as some of the scents started to sort themselves out, and I had to quickly amend my statement. "Actually, I think I need two more things. I need completely unrestricted access to his file. Nothing redacted, nothing deleted and absolutely nothing missing. Elle and I need to know everything about the guy, down to the names of the girls from his wet dreams if you've got them.

"We'll also need to interview every agent he's had contact with over the past two or three years if they're available."

Noah frowned in thought for a minute. "I can probably get the file for you, but not today. That'll have to go through Thompson, so it probably won't get here until sometime tomorrow. Why do you need the interviews?"

"Because someone knows something. Someone always knows something. It's probable that he has someone working for him."

"They won't tell you, Havoc. If they're actually working for him, they'll never tell you the truth."

With a feral grin, I laughed. "You know me, Noah. I know when someone's lying to me. If they do, we'll persuade them to be honest." Letting the laugh die, I fixed him with my coldest stare. "You may want to warn your people that lying to me is a very bad career move."

**Unknown Date; Unknown Location**

It's been some time since Havoc killed Meat and burned the carcass, along with the bodies of its final victims. After gleefully watching Meat's body turn to ash, he went hunting.

One at a time, he found the other three Dogs and freed them. They had been broken, and cowered away from Havoc. Each one took hours to convince that Meat was truly dead.

The next step was to free the Bitches. Havoc knew that there were several, but neither he nor the other boys knew where they had been kept. After several more hours they stumbled across a hidden room in the Meat's bedroom. Not only were there a dozen different keys, but video of the abuses each Bitch had undergone, as well as a tally book Meat kept to track how many lived, and how they died.

Over the next several hours, and encountering the same problems as when he liberated the boys, he found and freed each of the surviving girls. When he was finished, he found that six of the twelve had survived, and four had been found dead in their kennels. That left two unaccounted for, until he remembered the two he had burned with Meat. They took the four dead girls and placed them in the incinerator.

He wasn't certain just how long ago that had happened. They had all been captured or purchased long before they had any notion of time, and Meat had never bothered to teach them. He did know that all of the boys, himself first of all, as well as the three youngest of the girls, had undergone a series of physical changes. They had all begun to grow hair where it had never been before. The boy's voices, including Havoc's, had grown deeper. The girls had all begun to bleed for several days every thirty days or so.

One girl was the most predictable bleeder, and had become the unofficial time keeper for the group as a result. She had begun to cycle roughly one hundred and twenty days after what they all called the Freeing, and had cycled roughly ninety times or so to this point.

Over that time, they had become a completely self-reliant, closed community. Havoc, due to his strength of will as well as his physical strength, became the leader of the group. The boys still did the work they had always done, which included growing and harvesting food, and keeping the area cleaned and in repair. The girls were also trained in those duties, but taught the boys how to cook the food and clean the house as well.

As the good food and healthy work too effect, everyone grew healthier and stronger. Protruding bones were covered as flesh filled out and muscle developed. Lifeless eyes changed as they discovered hope and learned to enjoy life. The open wounds healed, and the scars faded as their bodies healed.

Meat had not bothered with keeping clothing for his slaves, so they remained nude even after the Freeing. When it became too cold for them to work outside, they quickly found that there was plenty of work to be done inside. Among other jobs, they completely stripped and cleaned Meat's Pleasure Chamber, turning it into sleeping quarters for the entire group.

The only real problem they had encountered was the sexual urges that both the boys and the girls began to have. In order to prevent jealousy and fighting, Havoc created a schedule of sorts. With the exception of the week or so she was on her cycle, each girl had sex once or twice a week, as they desired, with the boy of their choice; provided each boy also had sex at least once a week. Thus far, it seemed to be working.

Discipline was swift but rare. Depending on the nature and degree of the violation of the agreed-upon rules, the punishments ranged anywhere from extra work to twenty lashes. The judgments were always rendered, and the more severe punishments carried out, by Havoc.

He had learned early that he was the strongest as well as the most agile of the ten members of the small community. He had also learned that his senses of smell, sight and hearing were far stronger than those of the other Freed. Since their lives had not taught them trust, they lived in paranoia that strangers may come in and enslave them yet again. For these reasons, Havoc performed regular security sweeps of the entire area. He also took on the duty of hunting, and fashioned a hunting spear, bow, and arrows to aid him.

He is out hunting when the scent of strangers first reaches him. Immediately abandoning the hunt, he disappears into the trees and begins tracking the intruders.

After following their scent for a short time, he hears them as they make their way through the heavily wooded area. Slowing down, he begins to crawl through the branches until he comes within sight of the strangers.

The first stranger is shorter, pale skinned and balding. In some indefinable way, he appears much weaker than his companion. "Are you sure about this, Charles? There isn't a damned thing here."

The one he called Charles is a large black man, slightly overweight but with an indefinable aura of authority. "This is the area, Maury. My sources in the Trade told me that the guy who lives somewhere in this area bought a boy matching our description maybe sixteen years ago."

**February 27, 2003; Odessa, Texas**

The rest of the day was uneventful. Elle and I scheduled a series of interviews for tomorrow to locate the agent, or agents, I was certain Bernhelm had working for him. Noah had called in my request to see the entire, unedited, file, and had been told it would be hand delivered tomorrow as well.

For appearances, we spent several hours, including a working lunch, with the Primatech accountants. Later, we met with the book keepers for the clients who were furthest behind in their payments. By the time we ate dinner and made it back to the penthouse, it was past 11.

Elle went into the bedroom to change into a pair of shorts and a t-shirt for bed. I followed her with other plans. When she had stripped off the pantsuit, I came up behind her and carefully restrained her.

Pressing my lips against the side of her neck, in a spot I knew to cause interesting reactions, I ran my hand lightly across her bare stomach and nipped at her ear. The sudden intake of breath and the almost violent shudder, combined with the unmistakable alteration in her scent, told me all I needed to know.

She started to turn into me, but I held her in place. The hand I had been running along her stomach slid in under her bra, massaging her breasts. The other hand, which had been resting on her hip, slipped into her panties, where it began its own explorations before I allowed my finger to slide into place, eliciting a moan of pleasure.

After quite a while of this, taking her to the brink without letting her past it, I released her and let her turn into me, drawing me into a deep, hard kiss before she nearly ripped off my suit and led me to the bed. Once there, we finished undressing each other, and I grinned before pushing her into bed and joining her, where she happily returned the earlier favor before our bodies joined.

* * *

_**Author's Note:**_

**1: **Havoc's background is completely fictionalized. Sadly, Child Slavery and the Sex Trade, which are not necessarily separate issues, are not mere artistic creations. They are tragically, horribly, real. Some reports indicate that as many as 9 million children are enslaved worldwide, and that number continues to grow annually. As of 2001, there were an estimated 2 million children sold into Sex Slavery annually.

**2: **The phone conversation havoc overheard at the beginning of this chapter, between Bob and Linderman, was regarding Sarah Noonan. This character was referenced with the permission of my friend and fellow writer, OnyxRiver. Agent Noonan appears in her story, **Burning The Picket Fence**, which is an excellent read that I highly recommend.

"But don't take my word for it…"


	4. Chapter 4: Questions

**February 28, 2003; Odessa, Texas**

Elle and I had come in shortly after 7, and had been conducting interviews all morning. So far, we had only encountered one agent, Kristen Hart, who raised any red flags. She had definitely lied when answering a couple questions. We'd bring her back after the remaining interviews, and then decide if we needed to resort to harsher methods.

As we broke for lunch, I let Elle head for the car and stepped into Noah's office. He was busy looking through some field reports when I entered, but looked up as the door closed. Pushing aside the reports, he leaned back in his chair. "How's the inquest?"

Leaning against the wall, I flashed a tired grin. "Not bad. We've got one that was less than honest with us. We're going to bring her back later and give her one last chance to explain herself."

"If she doesn't?"

"Things get ugly."

Taking off his glasses, he cleaned them for a minute before looking back up. "All right. What do you need from me?"

"Can you get Agent Hart's file?"

Making a quick note, he nodded. "Anything else?"

"Not right now. See you later, Noah." Leaving his office, I headed through the labyrinthine halls to the elevators. As I was about to enter the main hall, I realized Elle was still out there, and not alone. My nose clearly told me that she had just given someone a warning zap. Closing my eyes, I tried to figure out what was going on.

"Listen fucker, if you try that shit again, I'll fry that little fucking zit you call a dick down to ash!"

Whoever was out there was apparently not intimidated. As I began to push open the door, I heard him backhand her nearly hard enough to break her jaw. "Damned bitch-whore! If you ever pull that shit on me again I'll slice your little fuck-box and your cupcakes to fucking ribbons before I kill you. I don't give a flying fuck who your daddy is, bitch, you're my whore now! I'll take your blonde ass any time, and any place, I damn well want, and you'll fucking accept it." I could hear the vicious grin in his voice as I rounded the door, barely giving it time to let me out. Looking down the hall, I saw him holding her against the wall, with one meaty hand wrapped around her throat. "If you'd been a nice little slut, it might even have been pleasant for you. Now that you pulled that stunt, I'm gonna make you fucking bleed!"

He was so absorbed with Elle that he had no clue I was there; at least not until I slammed my fist into his kidney. With an agonized howl, he dropped her and fell to his knees, both hands clasping the small of his back. When he fell from his knees to his side, I snapped two of his ribs with a couple of kicks. Grabbing him by his throat and balls, I threw him down the hall. Leaving him for a minute, I checked on Elle.

The slap to her face had quite nearly broken her jaw, which was already starting to swell and bruise. Her blouse had been torn where he had tried to grab her breast, and a trickle of blood ran from the corner of her mouth. Once he had released her throat, which bore angry marks from his grip, she began to breathe easier. She was conscious and alert, but not mobile.

Turning around, I walked down the hall to where he was trying to get back to his feet. Grabbing him by the hair, I helped him up. Squeezing his throat, I slammed the back of his head into the wall. "Who the fuck are you, dickless?"

Gasping for air around my grip, he said, "Thompson. I came with the file you wanted." Pausing for breath, he tried to look intimidating. "I run this branch."

"You don't run shit, fuck-face; and you sure as fucking hell don't run us! We work for your boss. Where's that damn file?" When he moved his hand toward his jacket, I slapped it aside, breaking his wrist. Laughing slightly, I shook my head. "Do you just not have a fucking brain? Don't act like you're reaching for a damned gun, shit-brain. Just tell me next time."

Sliding my hand into his jacket, I found a CD. Glancing at it, I saw it was what I was looking for, so I slipped it into my own pocket. Dropping him to the floor, I glanced over my shoulder to see how Elle was doing. She had pulled herself together and was staring down the hall in undisguised fury. Laughing, I waved her down.

Looking back down, I watched him contemptuously as he tried to stand. Driving one fist into his stomach, I grabbed his head and lifted him back to his feet. Bending slightly, I whispered in his ear. "You have a bruised kidney, a couple broken ribs, a broken wrist, and probably a mild concussion. You are about to have a broken jaw and, if Elle's expression is anything to go by, a pair of toasted nuts. Now, if you don't want that list to look and feel like a walk in the fucking park, keep your paws off my partner, and never let me find out you're manhandling women like that again. If you ever, even in your dirtiest fuck dream, lay a finger on her again, I'll rip your damned Slim-Jim off and shove it down your fucking throat. If you even threaten her, I will personally rip out your throat."

Straightening back up, I bitch-slapped him hard enough to break his jaw but not quite hard enough to knock him unconscious. Pinning him to the wall with one hand, I stepped aside to let Elle through. With a cry of fury, she slammed one charged fist into his crotch, listening gleefully to his screams as she released the electric charge.

Throwing him to the ground, I looked down at his painfully curled form almost clinically. Regardless what Bob might have thought, part of my job as Elle's partner is to train her so she's able to work solo. With that in mind, I grinned and looked over at her. "There's a spot in the small of the back, a nerve cluster actually, that causes a few minutes of paralysis when hit just right. The victim can still feel everything but is completely immobilized." Prodding along his back with my shoe, I drew back my foot and slammed it into the spot just beside the spine. Elle laughed viciously as his eyes filled with mute agony.

Glancing down, I shook my head. "Go ahead and grab the car. I'll call and let someone know they need to haul this ass-wipe to the medical wing."

After she left, I slipped back through the door and made the call. Before heading outside, I crouched down beside him. "Just a word of advice, cock sucker; don't even think about retaliation. What just happened was a fucking warning. If you come after us, in any way, I'll have to take steps."

With that, I headed outside. Before lunch we stopped at the penthouse so Elle could conceal the damage, and so I could print out the information on the disc.

**Unknown Date; Unknown Location**

Havoc has followed the strangers since locating them. The one called Charles is the obvious leader, which is surprising given the unmistakable scent of illness he carries.

The other, Maury, calls for another halt, breathing heavily. He is obviously unused to physical exertion. Charles looks around, and then looks at the piece of paper he's carrying. "Isn't it about time for another sweep?"

"Why? There's nothing here, Charles. I don't know what the fuck they were smoking, but they sent us on a damned wild goose chase."

"Just do it, Parkman. It's been over an hour since the last check."

"Whatever." Maury goes completely still, giving the impression that he is reaching out. After a couple minutes, his eyes clear with a surprised expression. "I guess I was wrong. We seem to have company."

In shock, Havoc crouches against the limb he is on. Sampling the air around him, he realizes that they're still alone. Confused, he crawls closer.

"How close is he?"

"Close enough to hear us. I think he can see us, too. This isn't exact, his thoughts are a little… well, odd, I guess is the best way to say it…, but I think he's been following us and trying to decide if we're a threat."

Havoc watches as Charles looks around for a couple seconds. In surprise, he realizes that the man is looking directly at him with an odd smile on his face. "Can you reach him?"

"If I know where he's at? Sure. I can't get a read on him though."

"He's over in this direction, not that far away actually."

Maury turns in the direction indicated by Charles, and closes his eyes. After several minutes he grunts and says, "It's all right. You need to come out and meet us."

The voice seems almost to echo inside Havoc's head, battering aside his paranoia and caution until the command merges into his own thoughts, seeming to originate internally rather than externally, finally demanding obedience.

With a twisting leap, Havoc lands in front of the strangers.

**February 28, 2003; Odessa, Texas**

After finishing the interviews, we met with Noah. Handing the Hart file over with a broad grin, he laughed shortly. "What the hell happened up there? I haven't seen Thompson in that kind of shape in years."

Shrugging, I flipped through the file and handed it to Elle. "There was a small question of authority."

"I take it he did something to piss you off?"

Shaking my head slightly, I flashed a small grin. "No. What happened to him was instructional. You know me, Noah. If he'd pissed me off, he'd be begging me to kill him.

He's one of those guys that seems to enjoy dipping his wick in the Company help." Indicating Elle with a nod of my head, I said, "She didn't want to play so he got rough. That's when I stepped in."

Dropping the smile, he cleared his throat. "Be careful with him, Michael. Thompson's definitely a lecherous ass, but he's also in a position to make life difficult for you."

"Thanks for the warning, but he already knows what'll happen to him if he gets in my way." Leaning back in my chair, I shrugged. "Anyway, that's not why we're here. We ran across another agent struggling with honesty."

"Who is it?"

Flipping through my notes, I found the name. "Agent Greg Coleman."

Making a note, he nodded. "All right. I should have that ready in about an hour."

Getting quickly to her feet, Elle headed for the door. "Good. We'll have time for some preparations."

Noah watched her leave and then looked at me. "Preparations?"

Shrugging, I stood to follow her. "They may decide to be difficult. We'll have to persuade them to stop."

Joining her in the hall, nearly having to run to catch her, I grabbed her arm and stopped her once we were away from Noah's office. "What the hell was that all about?"

Rolling her eyes, she tried to break my grip. "Nothing."

"Don't give me that shit, Elle. We've been partners long enough for me to know when something's up. What's the deal here?"

"It's not that big a deal. He's never cared for me, and I can't stand him. I just wanted out of there. That's all!"

Looking into her face, I could see she wasn't telling me everything. "We've both worked with people we didn't like, Elle. It's never been a problem before. You've got some other problem here; what is it?"

I knew that something was definitely wrong here. What I didn't realize was how sensitive this particular subject was. Her eyes flashed, and I was suddenly crashing against the opposite wall with a burning pain in my chest. Her voice came out in an emotion-strangled snarl. "You wanna know what the fuck's wrong? Fine! Some dumb ass politician can't keep his dick out of some trailer trash bimbo. The whore gets knocked up, and the politician's mommy, one of Daddy's friends, gets the Company to hide the whole fucking thing. Apparently both White Trash and Wet Dick have some sort of super abilities, and their bitch daughter's supposed to grow into some sort of fucking Wonder Woman. So, they give Golden Boy in there the brat to raise, with the promise he'll turn her in if she manifests. Daddy's counting the days, expecting some sort of uber-powered slut, and can't shut the fuck up about her. Then, of course, there's that bitch-whore they gave Daddy to raise."

Rubbing at the fried spot on my chest, I looked up from the floor in confusion. "You mean Sarah?"

"Yep. Wonder-bitch Noonan in all her fucking glory! Daddy loves her, hell, everybody loves Sarah fucking Noonan. The Golden Agent; She Who Can Do No Fucking Wrong!" Her voice was growing more passionate with nearly every syllable, hovering just below a scream. "Even when she abandoned her position, so she could whore around with her dumb-ass lover instead of doing the job she'd signed up for, Daddy didn't care." The bitter twist to those last words made me look closely at her.

I was a little surprised to see tears standing in her eyes. "I'm his fucking daughter, not just some foster-bitch forced on him by the Company." The pain in her voice was heart-breaking, even for someone with less than the average amount of sympathy. "I've always done every damned thing I was asked; followed every order I was given. If I was put on a mission, I completed it as best I could. I can't even get a fucking 'Thank You' from him. I have to beg for every kind word, each ounce of recognition. All I get from him without a fight are more fucking orders. But all Sarah has to do is toss back her hair, or bat her eyelashes and Daddy's willing to give the fucking Company keys to her."

Pushing myself up from the floor, still rubbing my singed chest, I had to concede her point. Bob was definitely never going to be Father of the Year. I'd noticed, early in our partnership, a tendency to take outrageous risks. At first, I thought it was simply a death wish. After the first few missions, and watching her interaction with Bob, I realized the truth. Everything she did was out of a desire to be recognized by her father. If she screwed up, he was right there to let her know just how disappointed he was in her. The reverse was not true. I sincerely doubt he's said more than a handful of kind words to her in her life.

Part of why she and I make such a great team is that we mesh. We're both irredeemably damaged, but we work well together. Part of that is because I take her as she is. The only attempts I make to improve her in any way are through training. When she fucks up, which has become less often as we've worked together, I jump her ass. When she gets it right, which is far more often than Bob will admit, I give her the credit she deserves. In return, I get a damned good partner.

Grunting, I pushed away from the wall. "Let's get to work."

**Unknown Date; New York, New York**

"Hello, Michael. How are you this morning?" He's seem this woman, Angela, before. Something about her scent always raises his hackles. Seated on the bed in his cell, he keeps his head lowered and follows her with his nose and ears.

After several minutes of silence, feeling her amused stare bore into him, he lifts his head to return her gaze; his face as blank and lifeless as his pure white eyes. Guilt at what he views to be an abandonment of his community, coupled with an impotent fury at his virtual imprisonment, has quite nearly destroyed his will. As the days passed and bled together, and the testing became more invasive and painful, he has sunk into a dark depression.

"I thought you might enjoy a bit of a walk."

"I'm not your dog, Angela."

Folding her arms across her chest, she coolly returns his stare. With an ironic twist in her voice, she says, "Amazing. You are capable of speech."

Leaning his head against the wall behind him, he closes his eyes and sighs. "What do you want?"

"I came by to see how Charles' promising new recruit was coming along. I must admit that I am quite pleased he isn't here right now to see his 'great leader' cowering in his cage like a whipped cur."

The deliberate wording of her insult, dripping with venomous contempt, strikes with whip-like force against the fading embers of his pride. What she says next stirs his will into a boiling rage. "If those poor children trusted you to look after them, it's a wonder they weren't already dead."

With a roar, he leaps to his feet. Halfway across the room, he hears a familiarly soothing voice in his head. "Calm, Michael. Be calm." Slowly, under the force of that inner voice, the rage dissipates. Blinking in surprise, he sees Angela smiling at him.

Speaking over her shoulder, she says, "Thank you, Maury. You may leave now."

Maury? Closing his eyes, he attempts to locate the man. With a horrified start, he realizes that he can find no trace of him. Stretching out with his senses, he finds they seemed to have been turned off. Not only can he not locate Maury, but Angela, standing right in front of him, seems to have become invisible to his nose and ears.

Opening his eyes in terror, he looks around wildly before focusing on Angela. "Well, your brains aren't completely asleep. You figured that out faster than I expected. Since your memories seem to be causing you so much trouble, I'd like you to meet a young friend of mine who will, at least temporarily, remedy that situation."

As she leaves the room, a young black man enters. Staring at him, Havoc somehow realizes that this man is the reason his senses have been dulled. "Who are you?"

Reaching a hand toward his forehead, the young man speaks in a thickly accented voice. "A friend. Sleep now. When you awake, the demons that haunt you will be forgotten."

**February 28, 2003; Odessa, Texas**

Noah had ordered Agents Kristen Hart and Greg Coleman held in separate interview rooms in one of the deepest levels of the facility. The rooms were featureless, uncomfortably warm and completely enclosed, lacking even an observation window. They had only two doors each, requiring codes that were changed after each use. The first of the doors led from the hall to the room, while the second door led to a slightly larger interrogation chamber Elle and I had spent most of the last hour preparing.

After a brief discussion, we decided to tackle Hart first. When we entered, she was seated at the interview table and quite obviously irritated. A slim, attractive brunette wearing a business skirt and blouse that were just a shade too tight, her brown eyes fastened on us as soon as the door opened. "What the fuck am I doing here?"

Tossing her file on the table, I smiled. "Being given one last chance, actually."

Her eyes narrowed with suspicion. "One last chance at what?"

"Honesty. We know you lied to us during the earlier interview. If you'll tell us the truth now, we can forget earlier."

Leaning back in her chair, she crossed her arms. "What lie did I supposedly tell?"

Taking her cue, Elle put her hands on the table and leaned forward. "Don't give us that shit, bitch! We know you lied to us."

"About what?" If Elle's performance intimidated her, it wasn't obvious.

Pulling out my notes, I pretended to look through them. "When we asked about any private meetings you might have had with Bernhelm, you denied any such."

"And?"

"It was a lie, Hart." Dropping the notes to the table, I reached into my pocket and pulled out a slim metal case. Setting it on the table, I glanced back at her. "You know it was a lie. That means I know it was a lie. And, since we're partners, that also means Elle knows it was a lie. If you'll be honest with us now, we can move on without any unpleasantness."

Standing up, she leaned forward, attempting to take control of the meeting. "I don't know what you're talking about. We worked together one time. We barely talked on the mission. We sure as hell never had any private meetings."

Shrugging, I sat down and opened her file. Glancing at it, I opened the case and pulled out a small syringe. "The file says that you're a Phoenix. From what the description says, it's an ability I've never seen before." Pulling out a vial of the serum from inside the case, I filled the syringe. Tapping the air out of it, I said, "Elle?"

With a vicious grin, Elle sauntered around the table. Although her ability gives her several ways to kill, this has always been her favorite. Grabbing Hart's head in both hands, she sent several thousand volts screaming into her brain. After several seconds, Elle stepped back and let her drop to the ground.

Setting the syringe on the table, I stood up for a better view. Five minutes later, exactly as the file had indicated, her entire body caught fire. Over the next several minutes, during which her clothing was incinerated, the heat grew so intense that we had to back away. When the flames died, her body arched as she drew a sudden breath.

Grabbing the needle in one hand, I jumped across the table. Rolling her onto her stomach, I shoved one knee into the small of her back. Grabbing her by the hair, I twisted her head back and to the side, stabbing the needle into her carotid artery and injecting the serum.

Standing up, I wiped the needle off and placed it back in the case. Closing the case and tucking it back into my jacket pocket, I bent back down and picked Agent Hart up. Draping her over my shoulder, I followed Elle into the interrogation room and dumped her on a small table along the wall.

While we fixed the various shackles, clamps and plugs into place, I explained what had just happened. "The injection was of a serum the boys in the labs whipped up. It has two stages. The first stage is a temporary paralysis. It should pass sometime in the next few hours, certainly no more than eight or ten. By that time, the second stage will be fully operational. That portion of the serum is a nerve sensitizer. Everything we will do to you would be painful anyway. Now it'll be excruciating."

Cradling her carefully into my arms, less worried about hurting her than about dislodging the attachments, I carried her over to a metal frame on the floor. Laying her in the middle of it, spread eagle, Elle and I clamped her wrist and ankle cuffs to it. After doing that, I tilted it so that it was standing at an eighty-five degree angle and held it while Elle secured the rods to keep it in place.

Once everything was ready, I lightly tapped her on the cheek. "We'll see you in about twelve hours." Then we stepped out and shut off the lights.

Down the hall, we stepped into the room where Agent Coleman was being held. As soon as we opened the door, he was on his feet and across the room. He tried to push his way past us, but I held onto him and threw him across the room and into the table. Grabbing his back, he leaned against the table and glared at us. "You have no fucking right to hold me here!"

Elle looked at him in disgust. "Reread the contract, dumb fuck. We can cut you up and use you for fucking bait if we want."

Handing Elle the metal case from my pocket, I asked, "You saw where I got Hart right?"

Taking the case, she pulled out the syringe and filled it. "Carotid just below the ear?"

"One shot, and put it all in." Walking over, I lifted him by his throat. "I was going to give you one last shot at coming clean, but you just fucked that up." Spinning him around, I grabbed his shoulder in one hand, and twisted his head to the side. After Elle injected the serum, I slid him over one shoulder and followed her into the other room.

Dumping him on the table, I quickly sliced off his clothing while Elle gave him the same basic explanation I had given Hart. Throwing him to the floor, we tied him to a slightly different frame. This one held him spread eagle, but slightly crouched, and at a roughly sixty-five to seventy degree angle from the floor. It also had rods extending from the frame to a harness around his waist, so he was forced to hold his hips and lower back slightly behind the frame.

Lifting up his head so I could look in his face, I flashed a feral grin. "Your file says Elle can't hurt you, since you're immune to energy discharges. That's fine. You and I can have some fun when we get back here tomorrow." Turning off the lights and closing the door, we headed back to the penthouse for the night.


	5. Chapter 5: Revelations

**1994; Unknown Location**

It has been a week since they dropped him in this heavily wooded area. According to Bob, it was for Survival Training. Though unsure of the reason behind it, Havoc experiences a sense of _déjà vu_. He's certain he has been in a situation similar to this before, although he cannot remember when or where.

He is hunting when he catches the scent. Stopping in his tracks, he concentrates until he recognizes the intruder. With a feral grin he sprints deeper into the trees. Using the scent as a guide, he takes a running leap into the lower branches. In much the fashion of an ape he runs, swings, and jumps through the limbs from tree to tree.

Sighting his prey, he silently slides his knife from the sheath at his waist and leaps through the air, performing a twisting dive that lands him just behind the target. Wrapping his arm around its neck, he lays the blade against its throat. Only then does he realize he's been duped. Swearing under his breath, he throws the mannequin to the ground, and begins to cast about for the origin of the scent that brought him here.

At that moment, he feels the barrel of a pistol press against the back of his head as a dry, almost clinical, voice says, "Tag; you're dead."

* * *

**March 1, 2003; Odessa, Texas**

Agent Hart's pained shriek tore through the room as Elle fired another low-powered blast into one of the small tubs of water below her. Firing one final blast into the water, she watched in pleasure as the charge flew up the chain and into the nipple-clamps. After yet another throat-tearing scream, she dangled from her bonds, panting.

Leaning against the wall, I nodded at Elle to stop. Lying slightly, I said, "I don't actually enjoy doing that, Hart." Pushing away from the wall, I walked over to where she lay, greedily gasping air. "Unfortunately, you didn't leave me very much choice. We know you and Claus met privately. I suspect there were… several… such meetings. All we need, right now, is confirmation."

Raising her head, she glared at me. "Fuck off."

Smiling sadly, I bent down to look her in the eyes. Dropping the forced civility, I snarled, "This is gonna hurt, Hart. I'd hoped what you had just gone through would be enough to persuade you to cooperate. Have you been wondering about that odd feeling between your legs? We have a metal band on your magic button, and a nice metal plug in your fuck box. Both are linked to one of the tubs below you." Slipping back, I glanced at Elle. "Three more; low-powered."

With a vicious grin, she took aim and fired. The agonized howls that followed hurt my ears. Finally she slumped against her restraints, sobbing with pain. "Now, did those meetings occur?"

Without even lifting her head, she whimpered, "Yes."

"Excellent. We're going to have a little chat with Coleman down the hall, so you'll have a little time alone. When we get back, we'll want to know everything that happened, and everything you talked about, during those meetings. We've already proven that you can't lie to me, so you may want to think about your answers a little while we're gone."

* * *

**1994; Unknown Location**

Dropping his hands in disgust, Havoc puts the knife away. Turning around slowly, he faces the man with the gun. "Hello, Mr. Bennet."

Replacing the pistol in his shoulder holster, Bennet takes a minute to adjust his gilly suit. Looking back at his trainee, he asks, "Where'd you fuck up?"

Thinking about it for a minute, Havoc grunts in irritation. "I was too quick. I caught your scent and tracked you here. As soon as I thought I saw you, I attacked."

"Exactly. Impatience is your greatest weakness, Michael, and it will get you killed. If you'd taken just another 10 or 15 seconds, you'd have realized something wasn't right with the setup, and you'd have been able to beat me. You need to learn subtlety and precision, and for that you need patience."

Letting Havoc carry the dummy, Bennet leads him away. "Your ability makes you stronger and more agile than nearly anyone. That means you're also faster. That speed translates into time; you have more time than others would to assess a situation. When combined with your enhanced senses, this gives you the potential of becoming one of the most dangerous men on the planet. Your main problem is your tendency to take a brute force approach to everything."

"Works, doesn't it?"

Spinning on Havoc, Bennet glares directly up into his eyes. "Twenty-five percent of the time, possibly a little more, yes. The majority of situations you'll find yourself in with this Organization will call for something else. Any brute can jump in, tear things up, and end up dead. I'm trying to train you to be more dangerous than that." Turning around, he leads his trainee up the nearby hill.

"Where are we going?"

"Back to school."

* * *

**March 1, 2003; Odessa, Texas**

Unlike Hart, Coleman tried not to scream. All he allowed to escape were occasional agonized whimpers as I used the whip to open his back. After a while, when his back was bleeding profusely, I nodded at Elle and put the whip away. Smoothing her blouse and short skirt with one hand, she walked over to him and caressed his cheek with the other. Adding an oddly girlish quality to her voice, she asked, "Why don't you just tell us what you and that man talked about? Then maybe the two of us can go someplace and make this an unpleasant memory."

"Go to hell!"

Shrugging, she went back to her chair while I picked up the next tool. Taking the weighted end of the long rope loosely in my right hand, I carefully measured the distance. "I love this toy, Greg; I really do. See, it presents me with so many options. For instance, I can do this." Launching the weight, I slammed it into his kidney.

Biting back the shout of pain that threatened to escape, he began panting heavily, trying to overcome it. While he was doing so, I began spinning the rope in lazily expanding circles. "I also get to do this." Altering the speed and angle slightly, I slammed the weight into his crotch. That brought out an agonized scream, which tore through the room. After repeating the action twice more, I set the rope aside and waved at Elle.

Smiling, she waited for his screams to die down. Once they had faded to ragged gasps, she sauntered over. "This is just going to get worse. Why don't you tell me what I want to know? Didn't Bernhelm try to turn you against the Organization?"

Sagging in defeat, he nodded. "Yes."

With a grin that seemed to light the room, she kissed his cheek. "See, that wasn't so hard. Now, we're gonna leave you alone to think about the answer to this next question. What did he ask you to do?" When he took a breath, she pressed a finger against his lips. "Just hold that thought."

* * *

**1994; Unknown**

"Again."

Havoc comes to a stop in front of his trainer. "Why? That was the fastest I've ever run the damn thing!"

Holding the clipboard loosely in his hands, Mr. Bennet stands from his observation chair. I know." Directing a flat stare at his student, he fills his tone with ice. "It was also the sloppiest one you've ever done. You worried so much about running it fast, you weren't concerned with running it clean. Now, do it again."

Swearing under his breath, Havoc jogs to the beginning of the course. At the signal, he sprints the twenty yards to the first wall. Halfway through the sprint he leaps into a forward roll, picking up the grappling gun as he launches over it. Rolling to his feet, he aims slightly above the wall and releases the grapple even as he finishes the sprint.

As soon as he feels the grapple settle into place, he leaps and begins climbing, bracing his feet against the wall as he does. At the top of the wall, he picks the grapple up and, with unerring aim, flips it the short distance through a small, fixed ring. Launching out from the wall, he releases the rope at the end of his swing. Using that momentum, he flips into a dive, slicing into the surface of the water more than forty feet below. At the end of an Olympic sized pool stands a climbing wall, which Havoc takes like a spider-monkey.

The top of the wall leads to a series of rings, which work their way up a slight incline. At the end of the rings, he finds himself facing a series of metal bars. If they were closer together it would resemble an inclined ladder, but each rung requires a carefully gauged leap to reach. Scaling the rungs, he finds himself facing a several yard drop into an elaborate jungle-gym which requires extreme acrobatics to safely traverse to the floor below.

Rotating around the lowest bar, he launches a drop kick into the first of three target-dummy's head. Flexing his knees at the last second, he uses the force of the kick to propel himself in a back flip, ripping the knife from its grasp and the gun from its waist as he twists himself around. Landing in a crouch, he flips the knife into the air. Even as the blade is flickering through the air, he drills the second target through the bulls-eye between its eyes. Reaching up with the unarmed hand, he grasps the knife by the blade as he begins a forward roll. Coming out of the roll, he adds the momentum of the roll to an overhand throw, burying the knife to the hilt in the final mannequin's chest-target, even as he aims the pistol back along the path he had just come, blasting the first target in its eye.

Dropping the pistol to the floor, he looks over to where his instructor is seated. Taking a few last notes, Bennet closes the folder. "Good work. Much better this time. Not only quick, but clean. The clean up on the targets was nearly perfect. The entire run showed much more polish; even a little artistry, which means you're starting to let your personality through instead of just going through the motions." Opening a door, he waves Havoc through. "Let's grab a bite to eat, and then we've got a little dodge-ball set up for you."

* * *

**March 1, 2003; Odessa, Texas**

When her ragged screams died into pained sobs, I grabbed Hart by her chin and jerked her face up to look at me. "Listen to me, bitch. Everything we've done to you up to this point may have been extremely painful, but we've yet to actually hurt you. If you don't start talking, and telling us the fucking truth, I start having Elle fry your ass. Now talk."

In her scream-hoarsened and torn voice, she gasped, "I've told you everything I know."

"Bull shit, Hart. You told us that the two of you fucked each other's brains out. That was only partly true. Although I know that was involved, he recruited you for more than your round heels and spread legs."

When she clamped her mouth shut, I stepped back. Looking at Elle, I nodded. "Fry her tits. Maybe that's give her something to think about."

With an evil grin, Elle raised a hand. "Second or third?"

"Start with second." Tipping my chair against the wall, I closed my eyes and waited for the new round of agonized screams to subside. When they finally did, I cracked my eyes to look at her. "You see how it is, I hope? You will talk eventually. Elle and I have done this kind of thing quite a bit, actually, and they always talk."

Standing up, I ran my hand up her back before tracing her cheek with my fingertips. Following the curve of her neck, I slid my fingers down her breast before deliberately scraping my nails along the burn marks radiating from the clamps, eliciting a pained moan. "To be honest about it, we've had a few actually beg us to kill them. We did as they requested," deliberately pinching the burned nipple, I listened as she screamed, "eventually. Only, however, after they gave us what we wanted." Releasing the offended breast, I yanked her head up by her hair. Holding her face inches from my own, I dropped the pleasant tone. "We don't have to be that careful with you. If we push it too far and kill you, we just wait a few minutes and start again. We have nowhere to be, and all the time to get there. Last fucking chance; talk!"

"Go fuck yourself!"

Grunting, I drove my knife into her chest, neatly slicing through her heart. Cleaning the blade in her hair, I put it away and turned around. Taking the case from my pocket, I pullet out a syringe and a blue vial. "When she comes back, give her another injection. Wait about 5 minutes, and then you can play with her."

"You're leaving?"

"Just down the hall. I want to have a chat with Coleman. I'll get his information, come hell or high fucking water, then I'll come back. I want her begging me to let her talk."

Elle's eyes lit up. "So, when you say I get to play with her…?"

Walking to the wall, I dumped the bag on the table. "Do what you want with her, and enjoy it as much as you want. First, second, third, hell, even fourth degree burns. If you get bored frying her beautiful ass, use some of this shit. If she dies on you, give her another dose when she comes back." Shoving the barbed whip aside, I pulled out a gag and threw it to her. "So you don't have to listen to her if you don't want to."

* * *

**1994; Unknown**

What Mr. Bennet was referring to with the term dodge-ball is a gauntlet. It's an obstacle course designed specifically with Havoc in mind. It requires him to use his speed, strength and agility to their utmost, but in combination with his enhanced senses of sight, smell and hearing. Hidden throughout the course are anywhere from one to a couple dozen Organization sharpshooters. That number changes with each run, and they are never in the same places twice. They are given non-lethal projectile weapons, and their job is to hit Havoc as he works his way through the course.

He performs the third and fourth runs flawlessly, dodging the weapon's fire that comes near him. After finishing the final run, he looks at Bennet, who flashes him a rare smile. "Excellent job. It's time for dinner."

* * *

**March 1, 2003; Odessa, Texas**

Agent Coleman's screams of excruciating pain, even muffled behind a gag, filled the small room. Putting the pliers back on the small table, I waited for them to subside into agonized sobs before removing the gag. Looking at his tear-streaked face, I filled my voice with contempt. "You still have one nut left. If I don't start getting answers, that goes too."

After several minutes, he gasped, "I've already answered your damn questions."

"And the answers that weren't outright lies were half-fucking-truths! Start talking."

I had been in the room with him for several hours. The whip had shredded his back. His face, chest, legs and arms looked like a jigsaw puzzle from the tortures they had suffered. Both feet and one hand had been shattered from the beatings. The other hand was completely gone, as was one eye and an ear. Each new torture had provided a mix of truth and lies. What he had not counted on was the way I could use my abilities to determine the truth. After a succession of total lies I had decided to step things up and grabbed the pliers.

Taking up the pliers again, I tapped his remaining testicle gently with them. Drawing a frightened gasp, he tried to shrink away. "I'll talk, damn it!"

Sitting back against the wall, I took notes while he answered every question I asked. After a couple hours, when I was absolutely certain he had no more information to give me, I stood and put the notebook away. Walking up behind him, I grabbed his hair and yanked his head back and to the side. Pressing my knife against his throat, I pressed my mouth to his remaining ear. "You didn't really think I'd let you live, did you?"

Cleaning the blade, I headed down the hall to Hart's interrogation room, making a brief stop before entering. Opening the door, I was nearly overwhelmed by the combined smell of badly burned, torn, beaten and cut flesh and the distinct aroma left by death. As I entered Elle released another powerful burst into the tub that would carry the current to the vaginal plug.

Closing the door, I waited for the muffled shrieks of agony to die. Once they had become tearing gasps, I caught Elle's attention. Tossing her one of the beers I had picked up, I glanced at her victim. "How many times did she die?"

Taking a long pull from the can, she almost purred in satisfaction. "Dunno. Maybe three."

Taking a quick drink of my own beer, I ran a practiced eye over her badly beaten, burned and broken body. Putting down my beer, I pulled off the gag. "Talk to me, bitch."

In a voice barely above a hoarse whisper, she explained her role in Bernhelm's insurrection. Over the next hour, she gave every detail she knew. When I was certain we had gotten everything from her that she knew, I walked up behind her and shoved my knife through the base of her skull and into her brain. After cleaning the blade and putting it away, I tore the clamps and plug from her body and dumped them in the water. Putting the syringe and half-empty vial into the case and back in my pocket, we went to Bennet's office.

Hanging up his phone, he leaned back in his chair. "How's the interrogation going?"

Grunting, I relaxed into my chair and closed my eyes. "Done. They've given us everything they know."

"And the agents?"

"Coleman's dead." Opening my eyes, I glanced at my watch. "Shit. It's past 6? Damn. Listen, the two of us are gonna grab something to eat, then we'll clean up down there."

"All right. What do you need from me?"

Thinking quickly, I scratched my shoulder. "A couple things, actually. I need a secure conference room so I can tell them what we learned, and get my marching orders." That was a lie, but a necessary one. Once they give me a mission, they leave me alone to accomplish it. The truth was I needed to talk to Bob and Linderman about what I had discovered and put in an interview request; and Noah wasn't on the need-to-know list regarding Linderman's role and position in the Organization.

"I'll also need access to Agent Hart's Omega Protocols." Part of the testing every Special was put though upon collection was to discover what could either kill or incapacitate them. That information was placed in a secret file known only to those in Supervisory positions, as well as those few in my position. Called the Omega Protocols, they took a personalized code to access.

"I'll have her protocol emailed to you. When you get back from dinner, the conference room will be ready." Taking off his glasses, he cleaned them thoughtfully while keeping his cold stare on me. "Anything else you can tell me?"

Standing up, I shook my head. "Sorry, Noah, you know the rules. All I can say is this is bigger and messier than anyone realized."

* * *

**1994; Unknown Location**

"Your abilities make you stronger, more agile, and less susceptible to injury than most. What you need to learn now is what to do when that advantage is lost; either through someone blocking your abilities or because you encounter someone whose abilities in those areas are greater." Mr. Bennet steps into the room, followed by the Haitian and a massive man built like an Adonis.

Sitting in one of the chairs by the wall, Bennet glances down at the clipboard he always carries. "Since, at the moment anyway, we do not have access to a Special who outstrips your abilities, we have to do this the other way. My friend here will block your abilities while Pritchard trains you in close combat."

Kris Pritchard was the most dangerous Normal in the Company. A Weapons Master, he was also an expert in several different martial arts. With a frame stretching just past seven feet of pure muscle, his mastery of close combat, both armed and unarmed, make him one of the most lethal men on the planet.

After several hours, Mr. Bennet stands. "That's enough for today." Looking to where Havoc was struggling to his feet, he gestures to the Haitian. "This is probably the second most important aspect of your training. We'll do this every day until you are as good as Pritchard can make you." With a slight smile, he watches as the blood and bruises slowly fade. "Now get showered and grab a snack. Then get some sleep." The grin turned slightly malicious. "You're going to need it."

* * *

**March 1, 2003; Odessa, Texas**

The conference room had been left for us just as Noah had said it would be. Making the calls, I sat back and took a drink of my beer. After another 5 minutes, both Linderman and Bob appeared.

Looking into the monitor, Bob asked, "What do you have?"

Ignoring him for a second, I looked at Linderman's monitor. "You'll need to replace a pair of agents, Linderman."

Raising one eyebrow, he smiled. "Indeed. Which ones, may I ask?"

"Greg Coleman and Kristen Hart."

"And why do I need to replace them?"

"They had information we needed, but requireed persuasion before they'd part with it. During the interrogation they both admitted to working directly for Bernhelm."

Narrowing his eyes in cold fury, Linderman leaned forward. His voice dangerous, he said, "I assume such disloyalty has been suitably rewarded?"

Nodding, I took another drink. "Coleman's dead by my hand, and we'll initiate Hart's protocols when we're done here."

"Excellent." Leaning back, he let his voice adopt a more congenial tone. "Now; to echo Robert, what have you learned from our traitors?"

Pulling out my notebook, I ran through everything I had learned from them. Partway through, I looked at Bob in irritation. "It would have been nice to know just why the fuck you wanted Tripp alive."

"Pardon?"

"Don't fuck with me, Bob. He was the Agent responsible for identifying, collecting and recruiting Bernhelm. He stayed in more or less constant contact, which is the reason for the timing of Claus' stunt here."

Bob shrugged. "We weren't certain they were working together, and that information was unnecessary for your mission."

"Bull shit! If you send us out on a fucking mission without all the information regarding the job, it's your own fucking fault if the damn pooch gets it in the ass! Never pull that shit on me again!"

Over the next hour, I ran through the remaining information. "Looks like the trail leads to the Dominican Republic. We'll fly down there in a few days."

Bob glared at me, still pissed about me calling him out. "Why not tomorrow?"

Taking another drink, I shrugged. "Because I need to be in Hartsdale to have a chat with Adam tomorrow."

"Absolutely not!"

Linderman had leaned back with a mysterious smile. "Not so fast, Robert. Why do you need to speak with Mr. Monroe?"

"Because, according to both our moles, he was behind all this."

Bob's eyes narrowed. "Impossible. He's been incarcerated for the last thirty years."

Linderman appeared to be considering the information carefully. "Don't be so positive about this being impossible, Robert. Monroe was responsible for bringing Mr. Tripp into the fold, as it were. That links him with young Claus as well." With a slightly sinister grin, he leaned forward again. "I recommend allowing Michael to question Adam. He may uncover some useful information."

After several minutes, Bob finally nodded in agreement. "Fine. I'll call the facility and tell them to expect you tomorrow, Michael."

Elle looked up. "What about me, Daddy?"

"You will be staying with Linderman at the Kirby Plaza facility. You already fucked up down there once, Elle." With that final statement, the teleconference ended.

Over the next several hours we cleaned up our mess. After disposing of Coleman's body, we instituted Hart's protocols, essentially burying her alive in liquid concrete. Finally, around midnight, we made it back to the penthouse.

Stepping into the shower, I relaxed under the spray of a hot shower, letting it pound on the tense muscles in my shoulders and back. After about a half hour, I felt Elle come into the shower, reaching to my waist and stroking; snickering wickedly when she felt me begin to react.

After a couple minutes, she knotted her hands in my hair. "Fuck foreplay, I'm horny now." Yanking my head down into a fierce kiss, she wrapped her legs around my waist, letting my arms hold her, and impaled herself on me with an excited groan.

* * *

**March 2, 2003; Hartsdale, New York**

The hallways of the prison facility were almost painfully white, with a nearly antiseptic smell. The cells were identical, save for the numbers on their doors. The Hartsdale facility held only the most dangerous Specials.

The cell I was looking for was most of the way back. The seemingly young man seated on his bed was what most women would probably consider attractive. Elle had definitely found him so at one point. His scent was that peculiarly flawless aroma of someone incapable of succumbing to illness or injury. He was also, for that reason, considerably older than he appeared. He looked to be in his mid-twenties to early-thirties, but he was nearly four centuries older.

Looking up from his floor, he flashed a slight grin as I let myself in. "They sent me a visitor. How thoughtful. To be honest, though, I'd prefer someone a little less male."

Sitting in a chair facing him, I stared straight at him. Despite his British accent and his considerable charm, I knew him to be even more coldly, even brutally, calculating than Angela Petrelli at he best. "This isn't a social call, Monroe. I have some questions, and you have answers."

"I do indeed." Relaxing onto his bed, he folded his arms behind his head. "For instance, I know your name to be Michael." Glancing at me out of the corner of his eye, he grinned. "Don't act so surprised. After all, how could I fail to recognize my own son."


	6. Chapter 6: Children Of Men

**March 2, 2003; Hartsdale, New York**

"They never told you? I would say I'm surprised, but Bishop never really cared for me." Staring out of the corner of his eye, he laughed at my expression. "You seem suspicious."

"Do you blame me? There's a reason you're in here, and it doesn't exactly give me reason to trust you."

Sitting back up, he relaxed against the wall, laying his arms across his knees. "My boy, I said nothing about trust. I never expected someone in your situation to trust someone in mine; although I would suggest your, shall we say, employers leave something to be desired in that category and, I dare say, not a single member of the illustrious twelve can point to a single lie from my lips.

"However, this has nothing to do with trust. It's simple fact. How else would I know that, along with my regenerative ability, for which you are quite welcome, by the way, you also inherited your mother's enhanced senses of sight, hearing and smell?"

"What the fuck do you know about my mother?"

Smiling maliciously, he chuckled quietly and closed his eyes. "Touched a nerve, have I? I think the greater question here is, how much do you know about her?"

Shrugging, I ignored the blank spots in my memory that seemed to have always troubled me. "Nothing. Angela told me she was killed when I was taken."

Opening his eyes, he quirked one eyebrow and gazed coolly at me. "I see. If one might ask; what, if anything, do you remember from prior to your training?"

Shifting uncomfortably, I grimaced. "Not much, actually; and for the longest time, nothing at all. Not long ago bits and pieces began filtering back. Half memories, I guess, mostly impressions. I remember, vaguely, living in a cage and being regularly beaten. Before that, I remember a beautiful woman and a night filled with noise and light. Everything else, up to seeing Angela when I woke in my Kirby Plaza cell, is a blank."

"I thought as much." Straightening up, he looked directly at me. "The Haitian got to you, probably at Angela's request." Suddenly grinning, he stood and leaned against the wall. "No need to worry, however. Your memory will return; indeed, it seems to have already begun."

"What the hell're you talking about?"

Closing his eyes, he pounded the back of his head against the wall in frustration. "Gods; I've sired an idiot!" Glaring at me, he swore fervently in Japanese. "What the Haitian does to erase your memory is entirely physical. God knows I should know; they seem to enjoy blanking me every few years. Anyway, whether you like it or you don't like it, you are my son, and have my ability. That means you will recover the memories because the damage will be healed. Your own statement would indicate it's already begun. You've started remembering pieces, right?" When I nodded, he smiled again. "Excellent. Over the next weeks and months you'll remember more. Eventually, you'll remember everything."

Pushing aside the reason I had come, temporarily anyway, I leaned forward. There was something I desperately needed, even if I hadn't realized it before. "Tell me about my mother."

With a strange smile, he sat in a nearby chair and relaxed. "If you resemble me to a degree, especially around the face, you bear an even stronger resemblance to her. She had that same black hair, and her blood granted you a darker skin tone than I've ever attained. You rather understate the matter when you say she was beautiful. She was perhaps the most stunningly gorgeous woman I have known in the past four centuries. I was married, of course, but fidelity's always been humorous concept to someone in my circumstances.

"I traveled quite often for the Company, and met her on one of my trips to the Dominican Republic. I was in a bar unwinding, and she was swamping. I was bored and lonely, so I turned on the charm. After the bar closed, Aña took me to her place. From then on I divided my days between helping her and completing my assignment; we spent the nights doing things to each other that would make a porn star blush.

"Over the next few years we renewed our friendship each time I was in the country. During that time we learned things about each other that neither anticipated. A group of slavers seemed to decide the village made an easy target. She watched me die three times in that fight and I learned about her enhanced senses, as well as her enhanced strength and agility." With a facetious grin, he said, "Of course, I also learned that the bedroom wasn't the only place she was a wildcat."

Something in his voice, and in that smile, hinted at a hidden importance in that last comment. "What the hell's that supposed to mean?"

The grin broadened, and he leaned back against the wall. "Let's just say I first saw your eyes that night, in her face. Which tells me you most likely resemble her in ways nobody else suspects."

"How's that?"

"If I'm right you'll find out on your own. If I'm wrong it doesn't matter."

"More fucking secrets?"

Shaking his head in disbelief, he stared at me. "You must be joking, sir. You work for the same Organization I founded. Secrets are the name of the game." Snorting a laugh, he closed his eyes. "Now, if I've satisfied your curiosity about your past, perhaps you could get on with the interrogation."

Pulling out my notes, I said, "The truth."

"No need to be so dramatic, Michael. I could never lie to you." Noticing my expression, he laughed. "Believe me, I didn't mean I had some moral objection to lying to you. It's just I know the abilities you inherited from your mother, and they make it impossible to, as they say, get away with it." Stretching out on his bed, he said, "Go ahead, boy. Ask."

Before beginning, I stared at him until he opened his eyes and faced me. "I want one thing understood, Daddy."

Noting the sarcastic emphasis, he raised an eyebrow. "Yes?"

"I know part of what's planned. I know, among other things, this whole damn thing is intended to free you." Noting the shock on his face, I flashed an icy smile. "I hope, someday, you succeed."

"You want me free?" The surprise in his cultured voice was tinged with suspicion.

"Yes." Dropping my voice, I let it fill with a cold fury. "I want the unbridled joy of hunting your worthless ass down. And, when I find you, I will gleefully spend several years slowly killing you."

* * *

**1995; Unknown Location**

He has been alone in this forest for hours. Shortly before he was dropped at the outskirts, Mr. Bennet sat him down in one of the briefing rooms. "This is your final test. Pass, and you'll be put to work. Fail, and it's back to school."

"So, what is it?"

"My reports on your progress have finally been taken seriously. Since I have attempted, I think successfully, to mold you into the perfect hunter, they've set up a hunt for you." When Havoc flashed a feral grin, Bennet laughed. "Basically, it's a game of Capture The Flag. There's a single clearing somewhere in a heavily forested area. Bob and I will be waiting there. Your task is to find us. The trick is, you must remain unobserved. There will be at least agents roaming the area searching for you. If you're spotted, the game's over and you fail. If you reach us unobserved, you win.

"The rules allow you to kill, which is accomplished by touching your target with the fake knife you'll be given. I obviously can't tell you not to kill, since it may be needed, but I will say your score will look better with a lower body count." Looking over the table at his protégé, he asked, "Any questions?"

Standing up, Havoc slipped on his duster. "When do I start?"

After the drop off, he waited the required half hour then took to the trees. Taking care to be neither heard nor seen by the people he could sense, he had spent the past hours circling the perimeter, trying to gauge the size of the wood. Now he sits perched on one of the highest limbs of his tree, using his ears and nose to track those nearest. Laughing quietly as one passes directly beneath him, he struggles to master the temptation to leap down and kill her. After several seconds the coast clears. Swinging, running and leaping across branches he winds his way inward, always sampling the night air for the sounds and smells carrying the information he needs. He deviates from his path frequently and fluidly to avoid the searchers.

As the minutes become hours, he locates the peculiar scent telling him he is near his goal. With a grin, he launches his way up the tree. At the top, he breaks free a small branch and begins his descent. He pauses suddenly, hugging the tree as another hunter, more alert than the others, passes underneath. Mentally berating himself for focusing so narrowly on the finish he ignored the warning signs, he slowly presses tightly against the tree.

His eyes, colored an unblemished white that glows lightly if there's any light at all, were a liability that had been explained to him early. He typically wears a pair of dark sunglasses, but chose to wear a pair of dark brown, nearly black, contact lenses for this test. Despite the slight discomfort involved, including a slight decrease in his vision, he finds himself grateful. The color makes his eyes impossible to see in the darkness.

A cautious sampling of her scent reveals no special abilities. It also makes him feel slightly more secure, as the scent and audio cues tell him she has no indication of his presence. After several tense minutes, during which her eyes pass over him repeatedly, she moves on. Waiting several more minutes to be certain she has truly left, he carefully works his way down to the earlier branch. Moving more slowly and deliberately, he works his way toward the clearing. Perching high in his final tree, he watches the action in the clearing as he formulates a plan.

Bishop is pacing, fury radiating from his face. A young girl, around twelve or thirteen, sits pouting near the small camping lantern. Bennet relaxes nearby, seemingly half asleep. The young blonde looks up from her sulk. "Why're we here, Daddy? I wanna go home."

Barely restraining his temper, Bishop closes his eyes and stops his pacing. "Shut up, Elle. For the last time, I'm here because Bennet thinks his trainee is ready. He helped set this up. You, on the other hand, are here because I can't trust you not to fuck up on your own. What you did to the house proved that." The rebuke and disdain in his voice nearly puts her in tears. "We're not leaving until Havoc's caught."

Without opening his eyes, Bennet says, "So certain he will be?"

"Absolutely. Our best are out there, and there's no way he can…" His voice trails off as, with a dull thudding noise, the ground directly in front of him sprouts a slender branch. His eyes dart around in horror as he looks for the source of the attack.

Bennet calmly sits up as Elle jumps to her feet, a blue glow emanating from her hand. Rising to his feet, a grin covering his face, Bennet laughs quietly. "Would you care to bet on that?" Without turning his head, he calls over his shoulder, "Hello, Havoc, glad you could join us."

Stepping out of the shadows behind them, Havoc seems almost to materialize out of the darkness. "How the hell'd you know where I was?"

Just as he is about to reply, Elle releases a blast into Havoc's shoulder, spinning him around and into the ground. As she prepares for another shot, Bennet, kneeling at his side, barks, "Stop!"

"But he attacked Daddy!"

Snapping at her in irritation, Bob speaks up. "Power down, Elle!"

"But, Daddy…"

"I said power the fuck down; now!"

As she sullenly sends the bolt into the ground, Havoc sits up and painfully stretches the shoulder. Glaring at him spitefully, she mumbles, "You better not attack him again."

"Don't be an idiot, girl. If I'd attacked him, he'd be fucking dead!"

* * *

**March 2, 2003; Kirby Plaza, New York**

It was after 10 when I finally finished interviewing Adam and made it back to the facility. Linderman had me brought to his office when I arrived. Seated behind an ostentatious desk, he waved me to one of the plush leather chairs. "How went it?"

Grunting, I relaxed into the seat. "Where's Elle?"

"I believe she retired for the evening. She hasn't been in the best of moods today. Why do you ask?"

Shrugging, I straightened my suit and leaned back. "Because nothing happened that's worth sharing twice. If you can convince her to come out, I'll tell you both at once and get it over with."

"Certainly." Pressing a button on his desk he said, "Bridgette, would you please escort Ms. Bishop to my office? I believe you'll find her in the guest apartments. Thank you." Turning his attention back to me, he smiled. "Now; why don't we spend the next few minutes discussing Mr. Monroe's, shall we say, familial revelations to you."

I couldn't hide my surprised reaction. "How the fuck'd you know about that?"

Laughing, he walked to a painting covering most of one wall. "You would be surprised what I know, and how I know it, Michael. Secrets, after all, are the life's blood of one in my situation. Your parentage however, at least on your father's side, has long been an open secret among the twelve. All knew you to be the son of Adam. He has spent the past years asking to see you; some vestige of fatherly concern, no doubt."

Snorting, I went over beside him at the painting. "Don't make me sick, Linderman. The only concern dear old Dad has is for his own ass. If all of you knew, why didn't I?"

Indicating the painting, which was a charcoal depiction of Auschwitz, he shrugged. "Fascinating, isn't it? It was done by a European school teacher nearly two centuries before Hitler was even born." Returning to his desk, he began reading through a file marked Dawson. "Quite simply, nobody told you because nobody wanted to. It was information we decided was unimportant to either your life or your job. More importantly, knowledge is power and only a fool shares power."

Before I had a chance to reply, the door opened and Elle stormed in. Dropping sulkily into one of the chairs, she sighed. "Well?"

Carefully concealing a grin, I began to explain what I learned from Adam.

* * *

**1996; Iowa**

The house is dark; completely silent. The scent of freshly spilled blood taints the air. Perched in a tree just off the porch, Havoc closes his eyes and allows his other senses to tell the tale. His briefing for this, his first solo mission, was brief and to the point. There was a murderess loose in Iowa. Specifically, there was a female Special using her gifts to kill. Havoc was to locate and eliminate her.

His senses report terror, insanity and the distinct aroma of violent murder. Careful to keep his black duster closed, and the dark Ray Bans securely in place, he works his way to the top of the tree and crosses to the roof. Moving as rapidly as prudence allows, he pries open the window and slips inside. Once in, he pauses again to collect more information. The acidic scent coming from his target is the only one belonging to a still living body. There are at least two dead bodies, possibly three or four.

Moving carefully, avoiding the boards and steps with the potential to betray his presence, he works his way to the attic door. Opening it, he uses his senses to verify he's alone. The stairs open to a hall on the second floor. Following the scents, he encounters the lifeless body of the first victim.

A young girl with sandy-blonde hair, around eight years old, lies sprawled against one wall. Her face held the promise of great beauty; a promise that will never now be fulfilled. She lay in a pool of her own blood, which had run from horrid wounds caused by acid burns on her legs, chest and throat. Her pale face forever frozen in an expression of agonized terror, her right hand lay in the blood, still clutching a small teddy bear.

Rage burning inside, he rises from his crouch and slowly works his way to the final floor. The tang in the air is thicker; the peculiarly disgusting smell of blood mixed with acid. The final victims are here, as is the target.

Following the scent-trail, he encounters the second victim. A young woman, in her early thirties, lay in a doorway. Her face, strongly resembling the girl upstairs, tells him she is the mother. Her body bears similar trauma, though the wounds are far worse. The burns are present on the face, chest, arms and legs, several of the wounds revealing acid-scored bone. One breast and part of her face have been burned away.

Moving past her, he follows the last of the trail to the entertainment room. The final body is sprawled in a chair, barely recognizable as having been human. Presumably the father and husband of the others, the majority of his flesh was burned away. One eye stares blankly at the doorway in which Havoc is crouched, resting in all that remains of his face.

A woman stands by the window, staring blankly out into the night. Standing around five-four, with a wealth of luxurious auburn hair cascading down her nude back, she remains almost completely still, allowing the light from the moon to frame her. Her shoulders shake in silent accompaniment to the sobs he hears.

The file he was given during his briefing showed this woman, Charlotte Johnson, to be stunningly beautiful. A local repeat winner of the beauty pageants, she had been in line for a Miss America run before being disqualified for what the officials termed Sexual Improprieties. She had been caught having an affair with one of the judges.

The Company had originally scheduled her to be bagged and tagged; then she went on her rampage. When the body count climbed into double digits the Bag/Tag team was retasked and Havoc was given the mission as a solo execution. He has spent a week following her, always arriving after she was finished and gone. Having tracked her to this point, he silently vows to end it tonight.

Reaching inside his duster, he swears as his slight shift in position causes a floor board to groan under his weight. With a startled gasp, Charlotte spins from the window. Her face, beautiful still, has been etched by rage, grief and insanity. Dropping to a crouch she moves away from the window, her long legs carrying her quickly and silently around the chair holding her final victim. "Who the hell're you?"

Pulling out his knife, he grins at her expression when he removes his glasses, revealing his white eyes. Instead of answering her question, he slides into the room, reversing his grip on the blade. Instinctively, she alters course to maintain the distance. "You didn't answer me! Who the fuck are you?"

Still maneuvering, trying to back her into a corner, he changes his mind about remaining silent. "Justice."

Confusion crosses her face. "Justice? For who? Him?" Laughing manically, she stops moving. "That bastard cost me my chance to be somebody! He raped me and, when it came out, claimed it was consensual. The only justice he deserves is what he got!" Her nude body begins to glisten as the acidic scent doubles in strength.

He had stopped moving at the same time she had. His orders, once crystal clear, had suddenly become confused. To buy time, he asks, "And the others?"

Her laughter dies, only to be replaced by an enraged snarl. "Stupid fucking cunts! Every damned one of them knew what that ass was doing. They knew but said nothing." She begins to circle again, moving on those long, slender legs in complete silence.

As the acidic scent strengthens, threatening to block all other smells, he notices the liquid beginning to run down her body, dripping from her small, firm breasts, as well as her fingers and nose. As the droplets hit the floor and furnishings, they leave little burns. Her feet leave acid-etched prints with each step.

The overwhelming acidity buried the signs he normally looks for. One minute she is circling cautiously, the next finds her leaping toward him, hands wrapping around his throat. As he feels the acid burning through the flesh, he reacts instinctively. With a roar of pain, he lets the momentum of the leap roll him onto his back. Planting his feet into her stomach, just above her waist, he thrusts up.

The combined movement breaks her grip around his throat and slams her into the wall. Rolling to his feet, he forces the pain aside and focuses on where she lay. Adjusting his grip on the knife, he leaps onto her. Rolling out of his path, she climbs to her feet with a snarl.

Over the next several minutes they fight back and forth across the room, each attempting to gain the advantage. Finally Charlotte provides the opening he needs. In a desperate move, she leaps onto his back. Dropping into a quick crouch, he launches himself up and forward, slamming his shoulder into her stomach. Wrapping his arms around her breathless form, he slams into the ground.

Taking another moment to regain his breath and overcome the pain, he rolls off her barely conscious form. Crawling over to where he had dropped the knife during the struggle, he pulls himself to his feet and stumbles back over to her. Looking down, he sees her eyes focus on him. As he falls to his knees and raises the knife, she gasps in a passion choked whisper, "Please; I want to live."

Staring into her violet eyes, he slams the blade through her chest and into her heart. As the life fades from her eyes, he falls away and watches her bleed out. "So did the girl."

* * *

**March 2, 2003; Kirby Plaza, New York**

"So this was all about freeing Adam?" Despite her sulking fury over being banned from the interview, Elle had obviously been attentive during the past hour.

"Basically. There's more to it, of course. He definitely wants out, but he also wants his revenge. Charles, Victoria, Kaito and Arthur are in immediate danger. He refused to tell me the exact plan and torturing him would be less than worthless, but those four seem to bear his chief hatred, and their deaths are definitely woven into the plot." Glancing at Linderman, I raised a questioning eyebrow. "He wants you all dead, but those are at the top of his list. They need warned."

"I'll have it attended to. Did he give any clues as to why Claus went to the Dominican Republic?"

Shaking my head, I stood and stretched. "Not really. He did say he told Tripp about some contacts down there. Tripp probably told Bernhelm about them."

Taking the silent cue, Elle joined me by the door. "So we're heading south tomorrow?"

Glancing at the outfit she was wearing, I shook my head with a smile. "No. Tomorrow we go shopping."

Her eyes lighting up, she grinned. "Why?"

"Neither of us packed for an extended jungle hunt. We need to pick up some clothing appropriate for the area."

Linderman opened the door to let us out. "Excellent. While you two are out tomorrow, I will make arrangements. The next day a private jet will take you to a secluded airfield we occasionally use."

On the way back to the rooms, Elle looked over at me. "What else did Adam tell you?"

Glancing at her out of the corner of my eye, I shrugged. "Nothing. Why?"

"Damn it, Hav! It's pretty fucking obvious he said something important, and it's equally obvious you and Linderfuck talked about it before I showed up. What was it?"

Shifting my shoulders uncomfortably, I grunted. "Nothing really. He tried to recruit me; I told him I wasn't having any of it." Thankfully, we were outside her door at this point.

Opening the door, she looked at me with fury and hurt in her eyes. "God damn it, Hav! I thought we were fucking partners. Do you think I'm that fucking stupid, to fall for something like that? Or is it that you don't trust me?" Tears standing in her eyes, she yanked open her door. "I thought you were different, damn it! I let myself believe I was more than a cheap fuck toy for you! God, I can't believe I was that fucking stupid!" Turning to face me, rage shining through her tears, she spat in fury. "Well go fuck yourself, or find another damn whore! I'm done spreading my legs for you!"

After she slammed the door in my face, I stood outside in stunned surprise and listened as she stumbled across her quarters, weeping. Going down the hall to my own rooms, I showered and prepared for sleep. Lying wide awake in bed, I argued the wisdom of keeping my parentage a secret from her. I did, after all, trust her; more than I trusted anyone else, when it came down to it. I just wasn't certain I wanted anyone else to know. Should I tell her anyway?

Before finding an answer to that question, I drifted into sleep.


	7. Chapter 7: Elle Part 1

**March 16, 2003; Dominican Republic**

With a racking cough I rolled onto my side. Weak as a half-drowned kitten, all I could manage was to lay there gasping for air. When the coughing and hacking finally died away, I forced myself to sit up.

Opening my eyes, I looked around the small clearing. I wasn't the only one here, although I was the only one moving. Using a nearby tree for support, I leveraged myself to a standing position and lurched to the nearby stream.

Falling to my knees, I stripped off my bloodied and torn clothing, and carefully slid into the cold stream. After adjusting to the shocking temperature change, I bathed my arms and torso.

* * *

**March 4, 2003; Santo Domingo, Dominican Republic**

After landing, we went straight to the hotel. Dropping my bags on the floor, I dug out the files and my notes. Elle, still sulking over my refusal to tell her what Linderman and I had talked about, dumped her bags in her room and went to the nearest bar.

Several hours later, shortly after 10 that night, I heard her drunken giggle as she stumbled toward her room. Hiding the files I was looking through, I opened the door. Elle had just managed to unlock her own, but had been distracted when the young man she was with pinned her against the wall with his hand down her pants and his lips on her neck. Clearing my throat, I chuckled quietly when both heads jerked in my direction. "Who's this?"

Blinking rapidly, she narrowed her eyes in thought. Her drink slurred voice sounded confused. "Who'sh'who? 'Ish guy?" When I nodded, she shrugged. "He'sha guy from'a bar. His name'sh… uh…" Leaning her head back to look at him over her shoulder, she asked, "Whash'er name, 'gan?"

Still staring suspiciously at me, the dark skinned Hispanic said, "Alejandro."

Grinning, she looked back at me. "Tha'sh ri'. Ale…Ale…Al'han'ro" Pushing open her door, she glanced back at her evening's chosen entertainment. When she saw he was still staring at me, she frowned. Turning around, she drew him into a deep kiss. "Don' min' him, 'An'ro. He'sh jus m'partner; Michael-The-Asshole." Releasing him, she walked into her room. "Now, c'mon. I wanna fin' out if yer tongue'sh good fer more'n jus' yappin'."

Rolling my eyes, I said, "I need you conscious and working by 9."

As Alejandro followed her in, she called out, "Yeshir, Mashah Mikey!"

Closing my door, I went back to the small table. Taking a memory stick from the lining of the laptop's carry case, I slid it into place and began browsing through its files. Within half an hour my suspicions were confirmed. The noises next door were coming from the male half of the Herrera twins. The files indicated what his scent had confirmed, he had not yet manifested. However, the family line was such that manifestation, in one or the other sibling, was something more than a mere possibility.

Powering down the computer, I hid the memory stick and stored the files and notes. The sounds and scents coming from the acrobatics in Elle's room were growing overpowering, so I went to the bar for a few drinks in search of my own entertainment for the evening.

* * *

**March 5, 2003; Santo Domingo, Dominican Republic**

After a late breakfast, accompanied by Elle's still sullen silence, periodically interrupted by her bitching because of her hangover, we split up and began our information hunt.

With a false Interpol identity, I made the rounds of the law enforcement agencies. Among them, my story was that Bernhelm was a former German Army demolitions expert who, upon being forced from the service, decided to offer his services commercially. I provided documentation linking him to bombings in Berlin, Baghdad, Jerusalem, London and Paris. By the time I told them about tracking him this far, they were more than willing to help me out. They gave me the names of contacts that would be able to help locate him, as well as individuals most likely to be in direct contact with him.

Getting in touch with the informants was fairly simple. Promises of money for information, combined with other promises of violent retribution if I found them concealing said information, served to persuade them to assist. My motel room rapidly became a clearing house for every scrap they could find.

Elle's methods were as standard as they were successful. Unlike me, she skipped the middle man and carefully worked the streets. Prostitutes, pimps, thieves and murderers; if there was a classification of criminal, she met with them. Using the same combination of money and threat, combined with seduction and blackmail, she turned her motel room into a similar clearing house for information.

Between us, there was a semi-steady stream of men, women and children from all walks of life through the motel.

* * *

**March 8, 2003; Outside Las Calderas, Dominican Republic**

I perched overlooking the home of Santiago Ramirez. When Elle and I compared information yesterday, this man was the primary overlap. Law enforcement couldn't touch him, and the underworld feared him. Apparently, he was known to make examples of those who crossed him. With a vicious grin, I awaited our time to strike.

It had been several hours since we had driven into Las Calderas in a stolen car; which we cleaned and destroyed. Booking motel rooms under another set of false identities, we waited for night to fall. When it did, we stole another car and drove a mile out of town before destroying it as well; we weren't going back.

From my perch in a tree overlooking the house, my grin broadened when the last of the lights winked out. After another quarter hour, I keyed the mike. "Time to rock, babe."

"Fuck you, Hav." Even bitter and resentful, she still did her job well. Seconds later there was a brief lightning storm on the other side of the house as his power and security boxes were destroyed. Even as the light died, I leapt through the air, drawing a brace of pistols as I crashed through the window.

Rolling to my feet at the foot of the bed, I found myself confronted by a major case of _coitus interruptus_. Without giving him a chance to speak, I pressed the barrel of my pistol into his head. "If you want to see the sun rise, keep that fucking mouth shut!"

Glancing toward the door and back, I saw his hand moving toward the dresser. Smashing it with a bullet, I swore fervently. "Don't push me, shitbrain. I want to talk to you, but I can learn everything I need with you dead."

The door slammed open. A group of six security thugs charged in, having apparently been alerted by my entrance and then the gun blast. Before they had a chance to do more than register my presence, they were all dead from head shots. "Fuck!"

Keying the mike, I called Elle. "Tell me you're on your way, girl. Things are about to get really fucking ugly."

Sensing his movement behind me, I slammed my pistol into the side of Ramirez's head. Aiming at the girl, I grunted, "Tie him up." Hearing another group coming down the hall, I swore under my breath and checked my loads. Leaping over the bed, I took aim at the door. When the new group burst through, I opened fire. There were no less than a dozen in this group, and the last four were firing in my direction even as they entered. By the time I managed to kill them, I was carrying a half dozen chunks of lead myself.

Glancing at the woman, who had ducked into the closet to escape the gunfire, I reloaded. "How many does that idiot have?" When she stared at me blankly, I glanced at Santiago's unconscious body; untied where he had fallen. Switching to Spanish, I repeated the question.

Blinking, she shrugged. In Spanish, she said, "At least thirty."

Thirty? Fuck, that meant at least another dozen. And the blood I was losing would cost me when they got here. Grimacing, I set myself against the wall and got ready for the latest group I could hear coming.

Just outside the door, their footsteps faltered as a new sound intruded. Their puzzled voices changed almost immediately to shrieks of agony as they were caught in a massive lightning storm. As the lightning died, I slumped against the wall and closed my eyes in relief.

Several seconds later, I opened them as Elle came in, one hand still glowing. Raising an eyebrow she looked around. "Only eighteen? You're slowing down."

Grunting, I cut off my shirt to trace the bullet wounds. "A couple of them got lucky. I was losing too much blood to be sure of myself. How many'd you get?"

Fixing her eyes on Santiago, she shrugged. "Maybe a dozen. This him?"

Nodding, I grimaced as the wounds began the slow process of forcing out the bullets as they healed. "You said a dozen? Good job."

As always, she seemed almost to glow at the compliment. "You all right?"

Pushing myself up the wall, I tried to shrug. "Sort of. At least nothing vital got hit this time. I'll be fine in a few minutes. You?"

With a sudden laugh, she shook her hair out of her face. "They were so intent on getting you, they didn't know I was around until I decided to tell them. By then it was too late. What's next?"

Thinking quickly, I looked to where the girl had hidden in the closet. "Do you understand any English?" At her blank look, I swore and switched to Spanish. "Do you have a name?"

Her dark eyes wide with horror, she nodded. "Marisol."

Wincing as the shallowest bullet popped free, I nodded. "Marisol, I assume there's a backup generator somewhere. Do you know where it is?"

Hugging her arms around her nude body, she said, "In the basement; near where he keeps me."

Grimacing as the second bullet worked free, I shifted my glance to Elle, who was staring at the closet in shock. "What? You didn't think I was the reason for his fat ass was naked and sweaty, did you? Did you hear what she said?"

Rolling her eyes, she glared at me. "Do you want a fucking recital too?"

Squinting in agony as my shattered shoulder reset itself, spitting out the fourth bullet, I bit off a couple curses. "Can you turn it on?"

Narrowing her eyes in anger, she demanded, "Why?"

"Because I'm out of action for probably another 10 minutes or so, until these last two work their way free and my body replaces the blood I've lost, damn it."

Muttering under her breath, she left the room. Closing my eyes, I finally started trying to sort out the scents around me. One had been tugging emphatically at me since I entered. It belonged to my past, somehow, but could find no grip in my memory. Try as I might, I couldn't place it. Opening my eyes, I stared blankly at the wall across the room. "Christ, Adam was fucking right. They did wipe me."

Muttering under my breath in irritation, I glanced at Marisol. Trying to sound gently reassuring, I gestured to her. "Come on out. The violence is done, and we won't hurt you." Making a quick guess, I asked, "You're not here willingly, are you." When she shook her head, I asked, "Do you have a home?"

Unclenching herself a little, she nodded. "A small village outside Azua. He had me stolen a few weeks ago."

"Azua? That's, what, twenty or twenty-five Kilometers from here? Do you know anyone in Las Calderas?" When she indicated she did, I nodded. "Good. We obviously can't let you go anywhere tonight, but you will be free to go to town either tomorrow or the next day."

"He will stop me."

Hearing the quiet hum of the generator kicking in, and feeling the last of the bullets pop loose, I stood and crossed to where he had fallen on the floor. Picking him up, I dropped him on the bed. With a vicious laugh, I looked back at her. "Trust me. He won't be doing anything tomorrow."

Turning on the main lights, I muttered, "Now let's get a look at our little songbird." Approaching the bed again, I rolled him over to look at his face.

It wasn't much of a face. In color and general build it was a fairly stock Latino face, although slightly doughy since he was carrying fifty or sixty unneeded pounds. Taking a few seconds to secure his wrists and ankles, I started slapping his cheeks to wake him up.

When he opened his eyes, the key turned in my memory, and I knew him.

* * *

**Unknown Date; "Home"**

The noise woke me. _Mamí_ had tucked me in earlier, after telling me another story of the man who had stolen her heart; the blonde hero who could not die. As always, the beautiful melody of her voice lulled me to sleep.

All was dark; no, not all. There were flashes of light from the gunfire that echoed, as well as flame from burning houses. I heard _Mamí_'s voice raised in fury, although I couldn't make out the words.

Her voice was overridden by another, harsher voice moving toward my room. Her angered tone became a pained scream as she was thrown through my door.

Rolling to her feet, she leapt at the man, her body seeming to blur as an inhuman scream erupted from her throat. The sound was abruptly cut off as a shot echoed through the room, nearly deafening me.

The leader stepped over her lifeless body, barely glancing own. "The bitch is dead. Now to collect the cub."

Approaching my bed, he grabbed my chin with one hand and ripped the bedding away. Lifting me up, he twisted me around. "Yes; excellent. I believe we have a buyer in place already."

And then he smiled; a cold, brutal grin that did nothing to warm his eyes.

* * *

**March 8, 2003; Outside Las Calderas, Dominican Republic**

They were the same eyes I was staring into now. With an uncontrollable rage, I wrapped one hand around his throat and threw him across the room, shattering his dresser. Growling deep in my throat, I leapt toward him, only to be slammed into the wall by a violent bolt of pure lightning.

Twisting to my feet, I shrugged aside the pain. Snarling, I leapt toward him again, this time being smashed through the window by another violent blast. Crashing to the ground below, I blacked out for several seconds.

When the world swam back into focus, I was staring up at the window I had just flown through. Grimacing, I tried to make a mental catalog of my injuries; four broken ribs, a punctured lung, one leg shattered, both arms broken in at least two places, and what felt like a ruptured spleen as well as third degree burns over most of my body, not to mention a concussion. Not a good day. I'd be mobile again in a few minutes, but it would take hours for the damage to be fully healed.

Turning my head slightly, I watched as Elle, more beautiful than ever in her violent fury, came almost literally storming out of the house. Her grey eyes flashing, her hair still writhing in the Medusa affect of her extreme discharge, she stood over me. Clenching her teeth in fury, she ground out, "What the FUCK was that? We need him ALIVE, you FUCKING MORON!"

Using my elbows to leverage myself to a semi-seated position, I swore under my breath as the broken bones began to grin together. Drawing a deep breath, I began the agonizing process of setting the worst of them into position. Once that was done, I closed my eyes for a second and swallowed the pain.

Opening them again, I looked into her enraged face. "Sorry, I guess I lost it up there."

Her eyes widened in sarcastic astonishment. "No shit? Ya think? What the fuck happened, Hav? I've never seen you fly apart like that."

Grimacing as the bones began knitting together, I stared blankly at the house and explained as best I could. When I finished, I asked, "How is he?"

"He's still breathing."

"Good. I'll let you handle the interrogation. I don't think I can trust myself with him."

* * *

**March 14, 2003; Dominican Republic**

Based on the information Santiago gave us, we had begun trailing his old gang. He didn't know all the details, and we wanted to confirm some of what he did know, but Bernhelm had found him several days before we arrived in country. Bernhelm had him set up contact with his slaver gang in the interior.

We spent that night in his house. The next day, the ninth, was spent preparing for an extended trip through the Republic's interior. Ramirez thought Bernhelm had already left the country, but he wasn't certain.

We set out the following day, early on the tenth. After making certain Marisol had clothing and food, we allowed her to go into town. Carrying our captive with us, we destroyed his house. Several miles further, we stopped and chained him to a tree. Taking my knife, I cut off his clothing and explained in exquisite detail what was about to happen. Then I covered his chest and legs in shallow gashes, just deep enough to bleed. We left him there, screaming in pain and terror.

We spent the next days trying to locate the group he had connected Bernhelm with. Yesterday, I finally located their scent. With barely any rest we had trailed them to this point.

Now we were less than a half mile from their camp, moving as quietly and carefully as possible. As we had separated earlier in an effort to flank them, we both wore the headsets.

"Havoc?"

Stopping my movement, I opened the mike. "What is it, Elle?"

"They're in sight, but I think we have a problem."

"Oh? Why?"

"I only have visual on six. Weren't we following at least a dozen?"

Shit. "Fall back!" Closing my eyes, I stretched out with my ears and nose, but they were still too far away. I could make out that there were at least twelve, but I couldn't distinguish them from here. I certainly couldn't make out how they were camped.

"Are you nuts, Havoc? They can't have…" Her transmission was cut off with a burst of static over which I could make out her scream.

"Elle?" When there was no reply, I repeated the call several more times. Finally giving up, I sank against the tree. I had to assume they had grabbed her, which made my job even trickier.

Setting my pack down in the crook of the branch, I pulled out my claws. Something told me this was going to be close work, and they were better than anything else I was carrying. Stripping off my gear, and going barefoot for noiseless movement, I began to work my way toward the camp.

Approaching it as stealthily as possible was time consuming, but it was time well spent. By the time I was within striking range, I knew everything I needed to; where each of my targets was as well as where they had Elle. With a feral grin, I drew a deep breath and flexed my hands in preparation. Then I leapt from the high limb.

Digging the claws into the skull of my first victim, I rode him to the ground. Rolling with the momentum, I only released my grip when he was airborne, smashing into the middle of a cluster of four. Leaping after the carcass, I slashed my way through the confused targets. The remaining seven came boiling out of their tents. Spinning to face them, I wiped the blood from my eyes, and began laughing as the bloodlust filled my mind.

Sprinting at them, I slashed through one rib cage, completely shredding his heart, even as I nearly decapitated another. Turning the sprint into a forward roll with a leaping exit, I slammed my claws into either side of my next target's head, leaping from his shoulders into the tree as he fell.

Perching on the lowest limb briefly, I spun and leapt back into the fray, slicing through the skull of my next victim as I hit the ground. Quickly wiping the blood and gore from my eyes, I looked around in confusion. I had slaughtered nine men; where were the other three?

My silent question was answered by the sound of weapons being readied. Before I had a chance to react they opened fire. Turning to face them, I watched their faces fall in horror as I seemed to shrug off bullet after bullet. Growling, I began to rush them.

With horror, I saw one drop his weapon and unlimber the business end of a flame thrower. Time seemed to slow to a crawl as I watched him depress the trigger, unleashing a sheet of liquid destruction into my chest. Less than a second later, I was on the ground, trying to breath through destroyed lungs.

The last thing I heard was Elle's voice screaming my name in horror and fear.

* * *

**March 16, 2003; Dominican Republic**

Exiting the stream, I stripped the excess water with my hands before beginning a brief physical examination. The worst of the hundred or so bullet wounds, as well as the gaping cavity left by that damned flame thrower, had long since healed. The memory of what had happened caused me to shudder as I dressed.

Heading to where I left my pack and gear, I considered what it meant. Given what had happened, there could be no doubt I had died; nobody could have survived those injuries. I guess I truly am my father's son.

Climbing the tree, I opened my pack and began suiting up. Socks and boots were a priority this time, since I was unsure how far the survivor's had gotten with Elle. With a savage grin, I began the always enjoyable process of arming myself; hunting knives in quick-release sheaths were tucked inside each boot, with smaller companion blades strapped inside each forearm; a brace of machetes were strapped to my back; I slipped a gun belt holding a pair of semi-automatic .45s around my waist, and another pair was held under each arm by a double shoulder holster. With a mild sense of regret, I traded my battle claws for a replacement set of half gloves. Finally, I tucked a dozen magazines, carrying thirty rounds apiece, and a garrote into the pouches at my belt.

Securing the pack into a comfortable position, that still left my movement unhindered, I began my hunt. As I passed through the clearing, a stray memory brought a vicious smile to my face.

"Even though I walk through the valley of shadow and death, I shall fear no evil. For I'm the meanest motherfucker in the whole fucking valley."


	8. Chapter 8: Elle Part 2

**1999; Los Angeles, California**

Tossing my file onto his desk, Bob stared at me, seemingly lost in thought. His problem was the same as everyone's; the lack of expression in my blank eyes. Finally he cleared his throat. "You've been with the Organization for six years now, and you've been running missions four of them. For the last three you've gone almost entirely solo. What I'm curious about is the missions you pick. Although you take any task we assign, when you're given the option you consistently choose the one that calls for the target's death. You've handled, superbly I have to admit, assassinations, retirements and eliminations. I guess I'm just wondering why you always pick those over other, possibly safer, missions?"

The truth is something Golden Boy would never understand. Thanks to my own abilities, combined with Noah's training, I'm unquestionably the best. Although I've spent the past years looking, hunting for my equal, I've not found them. The death notation is usually reserved for the most dangerous targets. That danger is the reason I choose the missions I do. I hope to find a challenge.

Of equal importance is my lack of past. For whatever reason, my life apparently began when I opened my eyes and saw the Ice Bitch, Angela Petrelli, in my cell. It wasn't until later I realized a disappointing and disturbing truth; the man without a past is also the man without a future. The missions I choose are undertaken with the clear understanding on my part that it doesn't really matter if I live or if I die. My reason for existence is the challenge of the hunt; if I die it means I finally found what I've been searching for.

Not that I have a death wish; far from it. I follow my training to the letter. I don't take unnecessary risks. I just don't care if death finds me, not that I'm positive death can. I've suffered hypothermia and heat exhaustion; I've been burned by flame, acid, and several unidentifiable liquids; all major, and most minor, bones in my body have been broken; I've had most of my vital organs damaged, if not destroyed, and I've lost more blood than most major hospitals go through in a year. I don't have a single scar on me. I heal slowly, and the worse the injury the slower the process, but I always heal. A tattoo lasts less than an hour, and a pierced ear heals within minutes of removing the stud. I can drink entire armies under the table, and not even get a buzz. I can recite chapter and verse of every battle I've been in, but I can't point to a single physical scar from them.

All that flashed through my mind in a couple of seconds. Even if I wanted to, I couldn't explain my reasons to him, so I shrugged. "Does it matter? The job gets done."

Watching his teeth grind in impotent fury, I barely restrained a laugh. Drawing a deep breath, he said, "There has to be some kind or reason, Havoc."

Rolling my eyes, I leaned forward and swore in irritation. "Damn it, Bob. You're not my priest, you're not my therapist, and you sure as fuck aren't my pal. You're my Goddamn boss, so knock off the bullshit. I take the missions I do because they need done, and I'm damn good at them. Now, do you have a fucking job for me, or do I stop wasting my time?"

Grunting irritably, he took a file from his desk and tossed it to me. "Here. You get a partner for this one. A trainee finally showing some progress."

Narrowing my eyes, I tried to figure out who he was talking about. "Trainee? I didn't know we had any..." The thought hit me that we did have one, a sixteen year old blond. "Oh, fuck n..."

"Elle! Get your ass in here!"

Preceded by the distinct aroma of burnt ozone, combined with an oddly enticing perfume, she walked into the office and sat beside me. Wearing a tight brown skirt, ending just past mid-thigh, and an even tighter pearl blouse, she had grown into a stunningly attractive teenage girl, and seemed to be well aware of it. The only odd feature, which served almost to accent her beauty, was what appeared to be a slightly lazy eye.

Closing my eyes, I rubbed my forehead in irritation. "Why the fuck am I being saddled with your damned daughter?"

His eyes glinting, he said, "Because, as you so told me not three minutes ago, I'm the boss. You wanted orders? Fine, that's what you're getting.." Opening his desk, he took another file and threw it to Elle. "That's all you two need. You're headed to Nevada. A guy there has been making a nuisance of himself. He was a serial killer already when he manifested. The only difference now is he uses his ability instead of a regular weapon. We have a plant in the local PD, and they've been kept busy destroying or otherwise losing evidence for us, while we've attempted to collect him." Lifting his eyes to me, he nodded. "After he killed a couple separate teams, we decided to send you in. Elle's going with you because it's time for her to prove her usefulness to me." Clearing his throat, he dismissed us. "You leave as soon as you're packed. Get out of here."

After gathering my gear, I met Elle in the limo. Once we headed to the private jet, she looked across the car at me. "So, what's the plan?"

Looking up from the file, I quirked an eyebrow. "What are you talking about?"

"The plan? How're you gonna kill him?"

"First of all, don't you mean 'we?' Bob did say we're partners." A slight shift in her scent hinted there was something about that statement which shocked her. "Looks like our main contact will be with Charles." Puzzled, I thumbed through the folder. "What's he doing in Vegas? I thought he was pretty much staying at his building in New York?"

"He is. Daddy asked him to run the hunt for this guy."

Startled, I stared at her. "How the hell'd you know that? Did you get a better briefing than the one he just gave us?"

Blushing, she stared at the floor. "No. Daddy called Mr. Deveaux. He didn't know I was in the room when he made the request." The bitter edge to her suddenly tight voice told me this was a sore subject.

Narrowing my eyes in thought, I started looking back through the file.

* * *

**March 16, 2003; Dominican Republic**

A man alone always has the advantage over a group. Especially when the group has a less-than-willing captive. Most especially when the group thinks the only man they have to worry about is dead.

And the advantage swings even further when that lone man is me.

I've hunted them for hours, with no food, no rest, and barely enough water to keep hydrated. In that time the trail has grown decidedly warmer. They've been moving quickly, but not pushing the way I have. I'm still better than twelve hours behind, and I'm going to have to stop soon for food and a short rest. Even I have limits.

* * *

**1999; Somewhere Over California**

We'd been in the air for maybe ten minutes. I had taken the opportunity to look through my temporary partner's file from my laptop. Lost in thought, I considered what it revealed, and compared it to what my senses were telling me about her. Something didn't fit.

Standing up, I said, "C'mon. We need to talk."

With a resigned sigh, she unfolded from the chair where she'd been half asleep and followed me back to the bedroom. Letting her in behind me, I closed and locked the door for privacy. When I turned around, she was half naked on the bed. Blinking rapidly, I leaned against the door. "What the fuck's going on here?"

Shrugging, she slid out of her skirt. "This is what you wanted, isn't it?"

"Not unless the meaning of the word 'talk' has changed, it isn't. Didn't you hear me?"

Holding her bra in one hand, she stared at me in surprise. "Yeah, you said you wanted to talk. Then you brought me back here. The other's all did the same. I was stupid enough to believe the first one, back when I first grew tits. When he told me what he wanted, I tried to fight. He beat me until I had to give in, then he planted it in my ass. After he finished, he promised I'd get a good review as long as I got him off when he wanted."

Shaking my head, I asked, "And the others?"

"More or less the same. They were all bigger than me, so fighting was a waste of time. I smiled, made the right noises, and was there when they wanted a quick fuck. Other than that, I just stayed out of the way like they ordered."

Now the difference between her file and the reality made sense. "Shit. Does Bob know about... Never mind, of course he doesn't. He wouldn't have sent you out here if he did. FUCK!" Closing my eyes, I thought quickly. Trying to keep my voice even, I looked back at her. "Get dressed. It's not gonna happen." When she simply stared, I barked, "Damn it, Elle. If I wanted to fuck you, we'd be going at it like animals in heat right now; and I sure as fuck wouldn't be the only one getting off. Get the fuck dressed!"

While she pulled on her clothes, I banged the back my head against the door and swore vehemently. Looking back at her while she pulled on her blouse, I asked, "You at least went through the basic agent training, right?" When she nodded, I let out a relieved sigh. "Good. We can start there. When we land, I want to talk to Charles." At the pleading look in her eyes, I tried to smile reassuringly. "Not about the way you were treated by the other agents, Elle." I had my own plans about how those agents would be handled. "There's a training facility in Vegas. I want him to let us use it."

"Why?"

"Because I'll be damned if I'm going into the field with an untried agent. A few hours in the training room and you'll at least be competent. At least that way you might live."

* * *

**March 16, 2003; Dominican Republic**

After a nightmare involving little but pain, I awoke from the brief nap. Stretching languidly, I arched my back and yawned widely. Blinking lazily, I padded over to the river. It was only after taking a long drink that I realized the series of impossibilities implicit in what was going on.

The drink had been taken by lapping with a long, wide tongue. I was moving on four legs. My already enhanced senses of sight, hearing and smell were suddenly magnified above anything I'd experienced. My movements were more fluid than ever before.

Looking down into the water, I blinked in surprise. I was staring into the wide set eyes, deep black fur, and distinct muzzle of a panther. Sinking to my haunches in bewilderment, Adam's words flowed through my memory. _I also learned that the bedroom wasn't the only place she was a wildcat._ He had preceded that statement by talking about my unique eye color. _I first saw your eyes in her face that night. _

As little faith as I had in Adam's word, the truth was staring up at me from my watery reflection. Apparently, my mother had been a werecat. In an unusual genetic twist of fate I had inherited the abilities of both my mother and my father in their entirety.

Standing, I spun and began to hunt my targets. Muscles that had never even existed before today moving fluidly as my massive, feline body loped through the forest. In the manner of a cat, I smiled widely. I was stronger, faster, and with better senses than when in human form.

I would find them soon. And then the fun could begin.

* * *

**1999; Las Vegas, Nevada**

At my request, Charles brought us to a secluded testing facility, virtually abandoned by the Organization. While she changed, he looked carefully at me. "What's this about?"

"I want to run her through the paces; figure out just how good she is."

"I'm sick, Michael, not stupid." Turning those compassionate eyes to me, he bored through my excuses. "That girl's been badly hurt. Whatever, whoever, is responsible, it has damaged her soul. Will you add to her pain?"

Spinning on him, I snarled, "You know me better than that, damn it! She offered, I refused." Taking a deep breath, I apologized. "Sorry. You didn't deserve that."

Smiling, he put a comforting hand on my arm. "That's fine. So, what's really going on here?"

After I told him everything she had told me, I saw a tear escape his eye. "That poor girl. She never had a chance."

"What the fuck's that mean?"

Shaking his head, he said, "Nothing. Just an old man thinking out loud."

I could sense the lie, but decided not to push. "Can you do me a favor?"

"Perhaps."

Flashing a wicked grin, I said, "Could you get me the names of her previous partners?"

Narrowing his eyes suspiciously, he cocked his head. "Possibly. Why?"

"Do you want the truth, or plausible excuse?"

"Start with the truth."

Keeping an eye on the changing room, I explained. "I don't know why, but what those assholes did violates what little sense of right and wrong I have. People like that don't deserve to live, so I plan on rectifying the situation."

Nodding in acceptance, he headed for the door. "I'll be back with them in a couple hours."

When he was gone, Elle came out of the changing room. She had traded the skirt and blouse for a minuscule pair of black spandex shorts and a pink sports bra, and the calf-boots had been switched out for running shoes. Flashing a smile, she asked, "So what's first?"

* * *

**March 16, 2003; Dominican Republic**

The trail I've followed for hours has led me to this point. As I prowl the clearing, my senses tell the tale. The two men, all that remain of the group encountered earlier, are now part of over a dozen. The second group camped here, awaiting my prey.

Pausing near a charred piece of ground, a low growl escapes. Elle had been threatened here. Given the severity of her reaction could only have been rape. The air still has the tang of her electrical discharge combined with the sour reek of burnt flesh. Good girl; although still a captive, she's made it clear she is not helpless.

The most crucial detail, however, is that they've been gone less than four hours. Looking to the sky, I bared my teeth as a purr of satisfaction escaped. Night was falling, and they would soon be forced to set up camp. I would need no more time than that.

With a yowl, I whirled and ran along their trail. My prey awaited.

* * *

**1999; Las Vegas, Nevada**

"So? How'd I do?"

Looking over the checklist I'd created, I had to admit I was impressed. First, I'd run her through a basic warm up routine. Then I had her take on the obstacle course. The next task had been a pair of sparring matches with me. The final physical tasks I'd given her were tests of her ability; specifically precision and control. Finally, I'd given her a computer test that checked mental agility as well as general intelligence and basic problem solving.

The test scored her actual IQ high enough to be intimidating to most men. Although her mental agility was scored slightly lower, it still ranked higher than most of the agents I had seen in the Company. Her problem solving skills, while rusty, showed evidence of being equal to the other scores.

Looking up, I handed over a towel. "Not bad." Seeing her eyes light up at the compliment, I cautioned, "Not perfect, mind you, but not bad."

"What's that mean?"

"You're not where you should be, and you're sure as hell not where your file says you are. You show promise, physically and mentally, but you're not there yet."

Her eyes took a bitter edge. "So you're just gonna drop me and do the job alone?"

Narrowing my eyes, I weighed my options. "No. First, you'd probably just follow along after me and get in my way. Second, I didn't say you were in bad shape."

Her voice hardened quickly. "What the fuck'd you mean by 'get in your way?' You don't think I can help?"

Taking a deep breath, I tried to keep a lid on my short temper. If there was anyone who needed kid gloves, it was this girl. "If I thought I had left you here, or with Charles, I'd handle the situation completely differently. If you showed up in the middle of whatever attack I was using, you would get in the way." Pinning her with a cold stare, I dropped my voice, "And would probably die." Letting it sit that way for a minute, I quietly enjoyed watching reality settle into her face. "On the other hand, I think I can work with you."

"So we're partners?"

Shrugging, I looked up as Charles walked back into the building. "That's what Bob ordered. Now shower."

As she vanished into the room, he came up behind me. "These are all of them I could find, Michael."

Looking at the paper he handed me, I felt a feral grin tugging at my lips. The list, in his careful handwriting, had five separate, a couple of which I knew. Keeping my voice low, I laughed "Oh... this is gonna be fun."

Feeling his eyes boring into me, I looked up. "Be careful, Michael. Some of these men are dangerous, and I'm not going to be able to protect you if the Others find out what you're doing.."

Nodding, I slid the paper into my wallet. "Trust me, my friend; none of them even know what dangerous is. And the Others will never learn I was responsible."

Several minutes later, Elle joined us by the door. "Are we ready?"

Nodding, I lead her to the car. "First we go with Charles to learn what he has to tell us. Then we hunt."

* * *

**March 16, 2003; Dominican Republic**

I was crouching in the darkness outside their camp, my black fur blending into the night, letting my senses inform me about the sixteen men I had followed, and the lone captive.

Elle lay bound and gagged where they dumped her when they stopped. She had been beaten repeatedly during her captivity, and one eye was nearly swollen shut. I could smell her blood from the open cuts. Four men stood near her, complaining bitterly about the electrical burns they had received. Another man stood over her, telling her precisely how she would be beaten and raped before they tired of her and killed her.

That left eleven. Of them, four were asleep in tents. Three were gathered around a camp-stove, cooking the dinner. The remaining four patrolled the camp's perimeter, the two nearest my position enjoying what neither knew to be their final cigarette.

Backing from the camp, I closed my eyes in concentration. Until I was more familiar with this form, and had logged practice time fighting in it, I needed my guns and knives. Clenching my teeth to keep a pained moan from escaping, I triggered the change. I felt each bone shift, shrink and move as I resumed man-shape. The muscles and tendons were even worse. As the muzzle shrank and shifted into my normal face, it brought tears to my eyes. Finally, I was kneeling on the ground in human form. The pain passed quickly, leaving me as I had been before the change first occurred.

Shrugging aside the questions of how my clothing and weapons had remained in place through the entire ordeal, I took one of the machetes from my back and slid to a point several yards in front of the closest guard. As he passed in front of me, I stood and wrapped my hand around his mouth. Taking the machete, I skewered him through the back, neatly bisecting his heart before the tip emerged through his chest. The kill was instant, and virtually silent. Lowering him quietly to the ground, I withdrew the blade and wiped it clean before replacing it at my back.

Crouching beside him, I carefully slid one of the blades from its forearm sheath. Although designed to be used in close fighting, the knife was exquisitely balanced to be a lethal projectile. Waiting patiently, I watched the nearest guard continue his rounds.

Finally, after nearly a minute, he provided me with the opening I needed. Stepping behind a ridge of trees, conveniently blocking him from the camp, he turned to face my direction. Carefully gaging the distance with a practiced eye, I hurled the blade in a smooth underhand cast. With a dull sound, clearly audible to me though no one in the camp could have heard it, the knife planted itself between his eyes, killing him instantly as it sliced through his skull and brain.

I closed the distance at a sprint as he collapsed. Wrenching the blade from his skull, I cleaned it before replacing it in the sheath. As the coppery scent of spilled blood inflamed my senses, I carefully approached the tents while drawing two of my pistols. Closing my eyes, I located the nearest bodies. The four sleepers still were. Two were in the tent immediately to my right, and the other two were directly to my left, asleep near the flame thrower that had earlier been used to kill me. Opening my eyes slowly, I planned my next moves with the utmost caution.

Aiming one pistol at a specific point in each tent, I grinned savagely and pulled the triggers. The first bullet tore through the fabric of the tent, piercing the tank of the flame thrower. The metal on metal sparked, igniting the flammable mixture. The tent exploded in a conflagration which consumed everything, and everyone, within. Those two were dead.

The second bullet tore through the other tent, directly into the skull of the most dangerous of the remaining two. Even as the survivor reacted to the noise, I silenced him with another bullet. Ten left.

The remaining pair of guards came sprinting toward the destruction, falling as I drilled them both with a primal scream. Of the remaining six, three stayed with Elle while the other three drew weapons and cautiously approached the flaming destruction. So far, not a single one of my targets had seen me. I rectified that.

Casually stepping through the flames, I watched their eyes fill with horror. Grinning sadistically, I waited until they had come to a stop and begun bringing their weapons to bear before killing them.

Slowly, pacing myself to appear as dangerous as possible, I approached the three who had stayed with Elle. One was standing behind her, holding a knife to the small of her back. His buddy, standing off to the right, stared at me as if I had just stepped out of his worst nightmares. "D...d...didn't we..w...we..we... Didn't we kill you?"

Laughing, I pointed the gun at his forehead. "Didn't take. Now I get to return the favor." Pulling the trigger, I watched as his face vanished in a cloud of bloody spray, misting across the face and upper torso of the man just behind and to the side. Shrugging, I pulled the trigger and watched as that man's face pulled the same vanishing act.

"Hold it!" Turning to face the last survivor of the group, I narrowed my eyes as I saw that his arm was around Elle's throat, holding the point of the knife under her chin. "Big mistake, man. You make one more wrong move and the bitch dies."

The shock in her eyes at my appearance had been replaced by fear. We both knew not even I could move fast enough to keep him from killing her, and her hands were bound in such a way to make using her ability against him impossible. Her only hope lay in me getting him to loosen his grip enough to give her space. With that in mind, I lowered the gun. "Bad idea. You kill her, and you still have to deal with me." Putting ice in my voice, I growled, "And there's no way in hell you're prepared to deal with me."

"Let me go. I'll leave psycho-bitch behind as soon as I'm gone, but you let me go."

"Let's put it this way, buddy. You let her go, and I give you a head start. If you kill her, you die before she hits the ground."

I could see the calculation in his eyes. The destruction all around him was testimony to the danger I posed. The fact that I was here also told him that I could give him as much of a lead as he wanted, and I'd still find him. I watched him weigh the possibilities. It wasn't until he actually made his move that I realized his decision.

* * *

**1999; Mojave Desert, Nevada**

The information and the search had brought us to this point. Caine Rogers was inside the enclave, apparently contemplating his next victim. I stood near the door, waiting for the confirmation that Elle was in position. She hadn't figured it out yet, but the job I had given her would keep her safe while also keeping her useful. She wasn't ready for what was about to happen.

When the confirmation came over the headset, I slipped through the door and worked my way to where Rogers was hiding. Elle's job was to prevent the team he had gathered from escaping, killing them if she wanted. The smile on her face when I gave her the order indicated that they would be dead by the time I reached my target.

Sniffing the air, I hunted the halls of this desert hideaway for my target. Entering the final room, I realized, too late, that something had led me astray. Closing my eyes, I searched for what had gone wrong.

"Irritating, isn't it?" The voice was coming from all around me. Although it sounded human, it had that slightly metallic edge indicating it was either a recording, or at least coming in over speakers. Continuing my search, I opened my eyes to stare around the room, using my enhanced sight to try and pinpoint the source.

"Don't bother looking for me, my young friend. I'm not anywhere I can be found." The forced friendliness of the voice had already started growing irritating. "I watched you come in. You're different than those other fools who have come after me. You're actually dangerous."

When he paused, I discovered where the microphones were embedded into the walls. Although excellently hidden, I wasn't the average searcher. "That's why, I'm afraid-"

"Just shut the fuck up already." With three well placed shots, I destroyed the speakers. Spinning, I dipped my hand to a pouch at my waist and pulled out a grenade. Flinging it at the wall in front of me, I laughed when it was completely destroyed, revealing the secret area my senses had discovered

The trail I had followed into the room became clear once more, and I began following it. Working my way down the tunnel, I entered a massive room at the heart of his little labyrinth. A man, slightly built and in his early thirties, sat in the back of the room, staring at me in apparent amazement. As I pointed my gun at him, he threw his head back and laughed maniacally. "I find myself surprised as well as disappointed in you, my young friend."

Curiosity overcame my better judgment. "Surprised? That I get. Why disappointed?"

Standing, he directed an unstable but piercing glare at me. "Because you act as if you've beaten me. Others have reached this point, although none as quickly or decisively. I've had at least one other get off a shot before I killed him. You're not the first."

With a grin, I said, "But I will be the last." Pulling the trigger, I was surprised to see he had already dropped behind the desk. The bullet impacted harmlessly with the wall, leaving him unharmed.

Before I had time to do more than register the miss, he launched himself over the desk and threw his hand out at me. Less than a second later, with not even enough time for me to blink, I was pierced by half a dozen burning knives.

Looking down at my chest, I saw six jagged shards of what could only be described as solid flame sticking out of my chest. As I fell to the ground, losing consciousness, I realized what the file had meant by listing Toxic PyroDarts as his ability.

I lost all control of my body, laying there barely holding onto consciousness and completely paralyzed. He came to stand over me with a sneer. "You fucking moron. Didn't you think I knew how to defend myself? Here's a tip that would prove useful if I planned on letting you live; next time you want to fucking kill someone, just do it. Wasting time just gets you killed first."

Pointing his hand at my head, he said, "Goodbye, dumb fuck." Just as he was about to finish me off, I heard a crackling roar cross the room, accompanied by a massive electric spark that slammed into his chest.

As he bounced off the wall, collapsing in a burned heap of dead meat, the effects of his ability began to wear off. The blades, apparently psionic in nature, faded away as soon as his concentration vanished. The poison also seemed only to be administered as long as the blades were in place.

Elle ran across the room, kneeling at my side. "Sorry, Havoc. I didn't mean to break orders, but I thought it sounded like you were in trouble."

Nodding, I whispered, "No problem, Elle. You were right" As the paralysis faded, I lifted myself into a sitting position. "You did good."

The effect was instantaneous. A small blush colored her cheeks, and her smile nearly lit the room. "Really?"

Looking over at the target she had killed, I nodded weakly. "Really. I really fucked up, and you saved my ass." Blinking as the last effects vanished, I stood up. "What about your guys?"

Laughing animatedly, she said, "Dead. Daddy didn't care about survivors on this one, right?"

"No he didn't. Good job, Elle." Turning to leave, I looked back at her. "You show a lot of promise. If you want, I can give you some extra training; make you as dangerous as possible."

* * *

**March 16, 2003; Dominican Republic**

As he threw Elle's body at me, slicing his knife across her throat, He ducked, spun, and jumped into the forest, running as hard as he could.

Taking the time to catch her falling body caused me to lose my target, making his escape at least temporarily clean. Lowering her to the ground, I tried to stop the blood from the severed artery. Her eyes, filled with pain, stared into my face as I worked. "Hav?"

Her voice, barely audible even to me, was filled with pain as well as emotions I couldn't place. Applying pressure to the filthy cloth that was all I had, I looked into that beautiful face. "Quiet. Don't try to talk."

"It's too late, Hav." Every word was uttered quietly and with a great deal of effort. She was dying and knew it. "There's...something...I need...to say..."

"There'll be plenty of time later, Elle. Right now I need to save your damn life."

Smiling sadly, she shook her head. The defensiveness and the pain that had always marked her face was gone, making her more lovely than ever before. "I'm dead, Hav... You know...it and...so do...I." Closing her eyes briefly, she looked into my face and gently raised one hand to my cheek. "Ever since...our first...mission...when I...was sixteen...I've...lo..."

The hand fell way, and I listened in stunned horror as her breathing and heart stopped. Sinking back against the tree, I tried to think. I've dealt death most of my adult life. I'd watched my prey fell under a variety of weapons, and I've retired fellow agents without even blinking. Death's not a stranger to me.

And yet, apparently it was. Elle's death hit me in a way none ever had. Yes, she was my partner. Yes, I had practically raised her as far as legitimate training went. Yes, we had been lovers pretty much since she turned eighteen.

Yet none of that explained the sudden emptiness within. None of that explained the inexplicable tears falling from eyes so many had described as soulless. None of that explained the vast feeling of loss.


	9. Chapter 9: To The Pain

**March 17, 2003; Dominican Republic**

Not long ago it passed midnight. Some animals prepared for sleep while others awoke. I remain where I had fallen to my knees.

Elle lay nearby. Her heart beat its last not an house past. Unable to bear her lifeless stare, I closed her eyes before sinking to my knees. If it weren't for the silenced heart, the stilled lungs, and the wicked slash across her throat, she could almost seem to be sleeping.

I should be hunting. Her murderer was getting further away every second I delayed. Not only did he have information I need, he must also pay, and in dear coin, for what he did.

The sadistic grin which usually accompanies the thought of impending violence won't come. Neither will the white heat of pure fury that would spur me into action.

Part of me wishes to pound the earth in impotent rage, howling my madness to the uncaring stars. Instead I sit.

Instead I stare.

Instead I remember.

* * *

**1999; Midland, Texas**

From a separate mission, over a hundred miles away in a different state, I carved time from of my schedule for this visit. I had several hours before I needed to return; hours I intended to put to good use.

I'd already made a series of similar visits, but this one would be special. Michael Turner; thirty-three; six-two and just over two hundred pounds. A highly decorated agent who's cover was as a purchasing agent for Primatech Paper. Although unmarried, he was known to have a revolving door in his bedroom, and he wasn't particular about age or willingness.

Even burdened as I was by two gallons of gasoline, and a heavy messenger bag, all of which, including the bag's contents, had been purchased in nearby Odessa under an assumed identity, my entrance had been smooth, soundless, and completely unobserved. He sat in the entertainment room, in temporary blissful ignorance of my intrusion.

That changed when I dropped everything behind his chair. With admirable speed and dexterity, a clear tribute to his training, he leapt from the chair and rolled to his feet, facing me. His movement stopped abruptly when he found himself staring into the business end of a .45. As he stared at me in fear and anger, I smiled. "Hello, Michael."

The fear rolled from him in a furious assault on my senses. A bully at his core, weak and cowardly, he turned into a worm when threatened. The Organization would be better off once I was finished. Staring at me, he tried to sound threatening. "Who the hell are you?"

As he watched, the gun vanished inside my black duster. Stepping around the chair, I took the poker in one leather gloved hand and stirred the fire. "You shouldn't let the fire die down this far. The evenings here can get a little chilly."

Sensing his movement, I chuckled and shook my head. By the time he had completed his swing, I had already completed a reverse flip, carrying me over the arch of his swing and landing me behind him. Even as the heavy lamp shattered on the empty section of wooden flooring, I rested the point of my knife against his throat. As he swallowed, I used the knife to force him to look into my face. "That was a mistake, dumb ass." With a dark grin, I took off my dark glasses, letting him see my eyes. "You wanted to know who I was?" Bending down slightly, so I was whispering in his ear, I snarled, "They call me Havoc."

The initial fear, which still allowed rational thought, was immediately replaced by a stark, unreasoning, terror. I was the Company Bogeyman; the demon haunting the nightmares of the average agent; my name a whispered hush of dread. If the Organization could be likened to the Apocalypse, I was the rumor that was the Horseman known as Death. There were few of us, and only one, a young assassin named Sarah Noonan, as dangerous as myself. Every agent knew what an unannounced visit from the man called Havoc meant.

"Sit!" He almost fell into the nearest chair. Curling my lip, I tried to keep from vomiting in front of him. If the fear scent had been disgusting, the scent of terror rolling from him now was infinitely more nauseating.

From inside my coat, I pullet out a series of fastening straps. Once he was secured, I stepped back. Crossing my arms, I stared at him for several long minutes in complete silence. Finally, just when I judged his panic to be at its peak, I spoke. "You're not in trouble with the Organization, Mike."

The relief was obvious as his terror scent lessoned, but it was combined with a question in his eyes. Stepping up to him, I backhanded him hard enough to knock out a few teeth. Crouching in front of him, I growled, "You're in trouble with me, you worthless fuck!"

Grabbing him by the hair, I threw him to the floor. "I want to talk to you about a girl, Turner."

The fear in his eyes was now tinged by confusion. "A... girl?"

"Cute; blond; shoots lightning from her hands; your partner maybe four years ago?" Planting my foot in his stomach, I asked, "This ringing any bells, shit-fuck?"

Curled around where I'd just kicked him, he struggled to breathe. "What...the fuck's...that Bishop...whore...got to do...with anything?"

Nostrils flaring in fury, I smashed his shin with a kick. "You worthless sack of shit!" I then pulverized a couple ribs. "Elle Bishop has everything to do with it, you little fuck." Crouching down, I took his throat in one hand and lifted him up to my face, standing as I did. "You were partnered with a girl barely old enough to fucking bleed, damn it. You started drooling as soon as you were alone. When she told you to fuck off, you damn near beat her to death, then ass-raped her while she was barely conscious. God only knows how long you took with her, but I know damn well you didn't stop until you were satisfied. You spent the rest of the mission getting your rocks off beating and raping that girl, enjoying her screams and what fight she could put up." Squeezing hard enough to make him gasp for air, I snarled, "How's it feel to be the helpless bitch?"

Forcing the words out, he breathed, "So...what? You...gonna...kill...me?"

Grinning broadly, I threw him into the wall. "Oh...eventually."

Leaving him crumpled on the floor, I picked up the bag and began pulling out the tools.

* * *

**March 17, 2003; Dominican Republic**

Not wanting to leave her exposed to the elements, I carried her body into the limited shelter of the trees. For some obscure reason, which I couldn't quite understand, I didn't want her left out like so much trash.

Walking down to the river, I tried to scrub the blood, hers and theirs, from my hands. Something about the action caused me to stop.

Blood.

My blood.

Adam's blood.

They used Adam's blood to bring me back for years. Then I learned that Adam was my father, and that I inherited my ability to regenerate from any injury from him.

Just yesterday I learned that I could come recover from death without an Adam transfusion. I had died, but I was alive.

Hardly daring to hope, I rushed through the remnants of the tents, searching for the objects I would need.

One canteen contained the tube I needed. There were no needles, but I had knives that work just as well.

Rushing back to where I had lain her body, I cut into her wrist. Sliding the tube into the opened artery, I secured it with a piece of rope.

Taking a deep breath, I repeated the procedure on my own arm. As the scarlet thread worked its way through the tube and into her arm, I sat back and dared to hope.

* * *

**1999; Midland, Texas**

Before doing anything else, I knelt beside him. Grabbing him roughly by the throat, I forced him to sit up. The fear, combined with the knowledge of impending death, had turned him into a creature lower than any animal. Contemptuously, I clenched my fist just enough. The reaction was immediate.

Staring into his pain filled eyes, I grinned broadly. "That used to be your voice box. It's broken now." Narrowing my eyes, I leaned down to his ear. "You can't scream any more. You'll want to; you'll try to; but nobody will hear a damned thing."

Dumping him to the ground, I took out my knife and freed his hands. Slapping him two or three times, until he was barely conscious and completely immobile, I stepped back to my tools and picked up a heavy duty automatic screw driver; the kind that the screws stay attached to until in the wall.

Picking him up by one arm, I forced him to a standing position, with the arm extended above his head and to the side. Pressing the driver against the crook of his elbow, I watched the horror in his face transform immediately to agony as I drove the screw into place. Despite his valiant effort, all that emerged from his ruined throat was a wheezing squeak.

Taking his left arm, I repeated the action. When I stood back, he was dangling painfully from his elbows, actually crying because of the pain. "Grow up, you damned pussy. This is nothing. Things are about to get much worse."

Putting the screw driver down, I pulled out my knife again. I've always kept the blades razor sharp, and even shave with them when not in civilization. Watching his eyes focus on the blade, I laughed. With a series of deft strokes, I cut off the ankle restraints, and sliced off his clothing. Then I stepped back to look at him and make my next decision.

After a couple seconds, I picked up the screw driver again. Kneeling, I took each ankle and screwed it into the wall. By the time I was finished, he was hanging from the wall in a spread eagle fashion, screaming silently in agony.

After several minutes, at the end of which he was finally able to focus on me, I picked up the nail gun. With a vicious grin, I kicked him in the crotch several times, until it was starting to swell. "Seems to me you've gotten into this at least partially because you allowed your inch long to do your thinking. That won't be a problem anymore."

Standing beside him, I pressed the nail gun against his left testicle. When he realized what was about to happen, he tried to scream. Pressing the trigger, I watched as his face turned gray with a sudden agony unlike anything he had ever known. Giving him a couple seconds to recover, I did the same thing to the right ball. Then I drove a final nail through his penis. Before fainting, he vomited violently from the excruciating agony.

* * *

**March 17, 2003; Dominican Republic**

The blood flowed between us, slowly but steadily, for hours. I'll need time to recover the lost blood, and plenty of fluids. Luckily, I had the foresight to fill a canteen and keep it near me.

Staring in exhaustion at her dead body, I thought for a second my eyes were playing tricks. Blinking the sleep from my eyes, I stared more closely. It wasn't a trick. The swelling in her face had gone down, and the cuts and scrapes were slowly closing. It was working. The only question remaining was if I could bring life back to her.

* * *

**1999; Midland, Texas**

A splash of ice water brought him back. The agony was still in his eyes and face, but fear was building by the second. "Sorry, Michael, but I don't have the time to let you sleep."

Grinning broadly, I took his arms and nailed his hands to the wall. The pain he was in from what had already occurred was at a level he wasn't aware could be increased. I intended to prove him wrong. Putting the nail gun down, I picked up the small acetylene torch. Lighting it, I played with the settings until it was how I wanted it. Smiling, I looked over the flame into his terror-filled eyes. "Tell me, Turner. Have you ever watched The Princess Bride?"

Slipping on a pair of nose plugs, I brought the flame close enough for him to feel the heat without getting burned. "We're gonna play a little game called To The Pain." Kneeling down, I pressed the flame against his flesh. "The first thing you will lose will be your feet below the ankles."

The pain must have been beyond anything he could imagine. Even with the heat from the cutting flame, it took several seconds to sever the left foot, and several more to sever the right. The flame cauterized the wounds, so there was minimal blood loss. The look of utter agony on his face struck me as hilarious.

After I gained control of myself, I pressed the flame against him again. "Then your hands at the wrists."

As I slowly burned through his left wrist, and began on his right, his destroyed throat allowed a small sound through. Finishing with his hand, I turned off the torch. Staring in amusement at his sweating face, reading every wave of excruciating pain as he felt it, I asked, "Now; what did you just say?"

Breathing heavily, he tried to speak. After several minutes he managed to squeeze out, "Please."

"Please? 'Please,' what? Do you want me to stop?"

When he nodded, I kicked his tortured crotch. "Too fucking bad. How many times did she ask you to stop?"

Pulling my knife out, I said, "Next, your nose." After slowly, and with care to detail, slicing the nose completely off, I thought for a second. "I've never really understood that part. It makes you look a little ridiculous, I guess, but there's not a lot of point to it." Shrugging, I moved on. "Oh well. The next thing you will lose will be your left eye, followed by your right."

Suiting action to words, I used the knife to pop the eyes out of socket before severing the optic nerves.

* * *

**March 17, 2003; Dominican Republic**

With a racking cough, Elle began to breathe. Hardly daring to believe what I was seeing, I stayed back and watched. It wasn't until she opened her eyes and began to blink groggily as she moved her head that I released an explosive breath. "Thank God. It worked!"

Turning her head slightly, she blinked at me and frowned. "Hav? Wha's goin' on?" Narrowing her eyes in thought, she said, "I thought I was dying."

Clearing my throat uncomfortably, I disconnected the tube from my arm, and then from hers. "You, uh, did actually." At her confused look, I helped her sit up. "How do you feel?"

With a confused grin, she shrugged a little. "I've felt worse." Shaking her arm free of my light grip, she felt around her throat. "What the fuck? Where's the cut?"

Holding the tube with one hand, I shrugged. "You may want to relax. I have a few things to explain, and it's probably gonna take a while."

* * *

**1999; Midland, Texas**

I spent the next hour carving into his body. To leave the police something to work with, I had chosen the identity I purchased my items under carefully. The designs and graffiti I carved into his body, while deliberately painful, were also chosen with care. The identity belonged to the leader of a local gang, and the designs were a series of symbols they used.

He passed out repeatedly during my work. Each time it happened, I paused long enough to pour some cold water into his face. By the time I had finished, not an inch of his exposed body remained free of mutilation.

Stealing a beer from his refrigerator, I drank as I watched blood seep from the scores of shallow wounds on his body. Taking my knife, I added several more deep cut markings to the tapestry. Setting the beer down and putting the knife away, I picked up one of the gas cans and doused the room. Switching to the other can, I poured it over his head and body. After watching the gasoline mix with the blood and run down his body, I did a quick sweep of the room.

There was very little trace of me in the room, all of which I cleaned. The rest was deliberately left for the police. Smiling, I removed the poker from the fire. Having been in since shortly after I arrived, it was cherry red. Taking another sip from the beer, I spun and hurled the poker into his stomach. Almost immediately the heat ignited the fumes from the gas. His destroyed voice box permitted a quiet scream as his body began to burn.

As the flames from his body ignited the fumes from the floor, I exited the house quickly ad without observation. The nose plugs went into a lake several miles away. By the time fire and rescue were alerted to the blaze, I was safely on a passenger jet on my way back to my mission.

* * *

**March 17, 2003; Dominican Republic**

"Wait a minute. Adam's your father?" The stress she placed on the last word indicated she was having problems with the idea.

Nodding, I shrugged "That's what he said. Linderman confirmed it."

"Why didn't they tell you? Fuck that; why didn't they tell me?"

"Linderman claimed it was because they like keeping secrets. Bob's reaction when I said I had to chat with Monroe indicates he never wanted me to know. I'm assuming the same holds true for you."

Narrowing her eyes, she glared at me. "Why the fuck didn't you tell me when you found out?"

"I probably should have. I didn't really have a reason to keep it secret." Thinking about it, I shrugged again. "I guess it was, mostly, because I was still coming to terms with it. Everything Adam said; everything Linderman said; what it all meant personally."

Thinking about it quickly, she pursed her lips. "Whatever. You told me now at least. So you inherited all of Adam's ability? 'Cuz I could have sworn they killed you. And I could have sworn I was dying."

Smiling slightly, I coughed. "Both true. Apparently, although slower than Adam's, my regen works about the same. I died but got better. That bastard killed you, but my blood was able to bring you back."

Sniffing suddenly, she grimaced. "Too bad it couldn't do something about the stink."

Laughing, I nodded through the trees. "There's a river over there. Cold enough to shock you, but it's wet. I'll stay here while you get clean."

Flashing a dirty smile, she said, "Oh hell no, mister. I owe you my life, and I always repay my debt. You're coming with me.""

Following her to the stream, I was only slightly behind her as she stripped and jumped in the stream. Shaking my head, I followed her in. Before long, the area right around us resembled nothing so much as a white water rapids.

* * *

**2001; Los Angeles, California**

When I entered Bob's office, I wasn't surprised to see Elle there. He had been teaming us together more often over the past couple years. Although he didn't know about the extra training I had been giving her when time permitted, he clearly recognized how well we worked together. "Thank you for coming, Havoc. Please, sit down."

Taking the offered seat, next to Elle, I grunted. "What's the job?"

Smiling, he said, "I don't actually have a job for you right now. I just wanted you to meet your partner."

"My partner?" Glancing at Elle, I raised a questioning eyebrow. "As in permanent?"

Smiling, she nodded. "Yeah. Daddy thinks we work best together, so he's partnering us up."

Shrugging, I glanced back a Bob. "Why permanent?"

"You were only allowed to run solo because we didn't have a partner that fit well with you. I've spent the past couple years playing you on rotation because I was hoping to find a good fit. Somewhat surprisingly, that best fit was my daughter." Sitting at his desk, he opened a folder. "That was all. Dismissed."

Shrugging, I left the office and wandered the passages to my room. Opening a beer, I relaxed into my favorite chair, lost in thought. Half an hour later, Elle buzzed to be let in. When I let her in, I noticed she had changed clothes. Instead of the pantsuit she had been wearing, she now wore a plaid miniskirt and a tight blouse. She had also put on a new, enticing, fragrance. Frowning, I asked, "Did you need something?"

With a shy smile, she nodded. "You could say that." Walking over to me, she grabbed my shirt and pulled me down into a passionate kiss.

When she finally released me, I staggered back. "What the hell was that?"

Grinning, her hands moved to her blouse and began unbuttoning it. "That was the first part of this."

"I thought we'd already been through this?" For some reason, I was starting to breathe heavily.

Slipping out of the blouse, she threw it aside, where it was shortly joined by the skirt. "We were. This isn't because I think it's all you want. This is something I want." Several seconds later she was completely naked and sauntering over to me. Running her hand inside my pants, she began to stroke. "And even though it's not all you want from me, Havoc, I can see in your eyes, and elsewhere, that you want me."

Unable, and unwilling, to resist, I quickly picked her up and carried her into my bedroom. Stripping rapidly, I slid into the bed with her. As she began to mount me, I stopped her. Looking at me quizzically, she asked, "What? I thought you wanted this?"

Nodding, I smiled. "I do; more than you could possibly guess. But, there's plenty of time later for you to take me to the mountain." Laying her down, I rolled over and began exploring with my fingers. "One last lesson. It's time for you to learn that sex is about more than making the man happy."

As my fingers found her pleasure centers, she started breathing heavily. "I don't understand?"

Pressing my lips to the hollow of her neck, I whispered into her ear, "I'm going to make you come like a fucking freight train." The look on her face was one of disbelief, but I had already begun to graze my way down her neck.

Stopping for several minutes at her firm breasts, I played until the nipples were hard as rocks and her breath was coming in uneven, ragged gasps. Moving down, I grinned as she gasped in sudden realization. As my tongue probed between her legs, accompanied by questing fingers, I knew I had succeeded when her thighs threatened to crush my skull.

An hour later, her passionate screams told me the disbelief had been eliminated.

* * *

**March 17, 2003; Dominican Republic**

Later, after we were dressed, Elle looked over to me. "You said the guy that killed me; fuck, that sounds weird to say!; anyway, you said he got away?"

"Yeah. I was a little distracted at the time."

Smiling softly, she touched my arm. "Can you follow him?"

Nodding, I laughed. "Abso-fucking-lutely. I followed them this far, and they had more of a head start."

"Good. Hopefully we can catch up with him. I think I'd like a little chat."

"Would you like a ride?"

Laughing, she said, "I thought I just had one."

"Different type of ride, ya little nymph." Adjusting my pack, I shook my head. "Turns out I didn't just inherit the entirety of Adam's ability, but I also got everything Mom could do."

Narrowing her eyes, she stopped getting ready. "And that is?"

"She was a werecat. I woke up from a quick nap on the way here to find out I had turned into a panther. I move faster that way, and I'm pretty sure I'm big enough to carry you that way."

"Faster?" When I nodded, she adjusted her own pack. "Sounds like a plan." Narrowing her eyes again, she stared into the trees. "Does Daddy know about this?"

"I doubt it, but it's possible. Hell, Bob and the others know more about me than I do."

Smiling sadly, she agreed. As we were walking into the trees, I looked over at her. "I have a serious question, Elle."

Her eyes indicated she knew what I was going to ask. I got the impression she had been considering it while we were talking. "Yes?"

"Back when you were dying, you started to say something. You died before you could finish." Looking into her eyes, I asked, "What was it?"

Looking into the trees, her eyes took on a look of fear and distant pain. Several seconds later, she cleared her throat. "Can we talk about this later? Please?"

Staring into her eyes, I waited for several second, trying to decide what I was seeing. Finally I nodded. "Probably a good idea. Did you want me to change now?"

Gently taking my shirt in one hand, she brought me down and kissed my cheek. "Thanks, Hav." Letting me go, she stepped back. "Let's get this show on the road."

Closing my eyes, I triggered the change. When I opened them, she was carefully approaching me. "Hav?"

I couldn't speak, so I simply sat on my haunches and blinked at her.

"God, you're fucking gorgeous."

Standing to my paws, I approached her and laid at her feet. She walked around me several times before swinging a leg over and mounting me. "Is this good?"

Standing, I began to pad into the trees, following the scent of the lone survivor. As we adjusted to each other, I began to move faster and faster. After a couple hours, I was loping along the invisible trail nearly as quickly as I had when alone.

Crouched down over my feline body, Elle rode like she had been born to do it. As we ran along, I felt her tears dampen my fur. Whatever fear had blocked her from being able to talk to me was still present, but she whispered, quietly enough that I doubted she intended me to hear, "I love you, Hav."


	10. Chapter 10: Memories

**March 18, 2003; Dominican Republic**

How long had it been? Evening had become night, night had turned to morning, and still I ran. Elle had fallen asleep on my back some time ago, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

The scent trail had changed a while back. At first the scent was a distinctive mix of horror and pure, mind numbing, terror. The horror was still present, as, to a degree, was the terror. They had died down and been mixed with a calculating fear. He knew I was, or would be, following him. He was headed someplace in particular.

I could live with that.

Unfortunately, following the scent trail was nearly as automatic as breathing, so my mind was unoccupied. Unoccupied, at least, with the hunt. What Elle had mumbled hours ago still haunted my thoughts, forcing me to consider something I never had before. Love.

Love had, or at least seemed to have, no place in my life. Though the case could be made that love was not a weak emotion, it was unarguably a soft one. And softness was something my life had no room for.

I was harsh and unyielding. My very name, Havoc, struck fear into the heart of even the most hardened agent. If the Company wanted you dealt with, I was the one they called. Retirements, executions, assassinations, blackmail, abduction, seduction; there was no mission I was unable, or particularly unwilling, to handle.

The word had spread that Havoc was as hard and unwavering as iron. More than one man had offered me enough money to purchase an entire country, as long as I left them alive. The money took up residence in one of many accounts I held. Unless directed otherwise by the mission parameters, they died slowly and in excruciating agony for their cowardice. Women with the body of Aphrodite, and the skill of Venus, had offered themselves to me in exchange for their lives. I granted them all one last night of passion. When the night was over, so was their life.

Havoc could not be bought. Havoc could not be frightened. Havoc could not be stopped. I had worked my ass off for that reputation. The edge that made me so dangerous came about because my only love was for the hunt.

Stopping beside a stream, I bent down for a drink. Staring into my reflection, I hesitated. With one single phrase, Elle put that passion, that edge, in jeopardy. Blinking lazily, I took another drink and continued to stare at my black muzzle.

* * *

**Unknown Date; Los Angeles, California**

It had been hours. Naked, cold, and strapped to a steel table. When they brought me in here, they claimed it was for testing. Since then I'd discovered the word was code for torture.

I had been burned, beaten, cut and broken. They had ruined my ears, my eyes and my nose. Each new torture was followed by anywhere up to several hours of silence as they waited to see how long it would take me to heal.

At one point, the man in the horn-rimmed glasses responded to my screams. Turning his head to the side, he swore. "For Christ's sake, that's enough!"

From off to the side, slightly out of range, came another voice. I'd heard it before, but couldn't place it now. "No. Continue the testing."

"Damn it Bishop. You keep this up and you'll be lucky if he just dies."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Elle."

The reaction was instant, and bordered on violent. "Damn it, Bennet. Never bring my family into this again."

With a furious expression, Bennet walked over to where I could no longer see him. "Jesus, Robert. You're the one that brought your damned family into this. Because of what you did to Elle, your wife damn near killed you. It's only because of Maury and the Haitian that she's not still trying."

"What do you mean what I did to Elle?"

"Oh, for fuck's sake! You brought in a perfectly normal little girl, Bishop; rainbows and unicorns; but you kept pushing during her testing. I tried to get you to stop, the others tried to get you to stop, hell, even Elle begged you to stop. You kept pushing, insisting she could handle it, until she fucking broke!" I could hear him take a deep breath before continuing. "Have you read his file?"

"Of course."

"Then you know what he's capable of. If you break him like you broke her, you'll have created a monster none of us can stop."

The voice sounded amused. "I don't think that will be a problem."

"No, Robert, you just don't fucking think. If his abilities mirror his mother's as precisely as his father's, we don't have a single fucking thing here to stop him."

I heard Bennet get pushed aside as a man I assumed to be Bishop stepped into sight. He peered through his glasses at me with a faint smile. "I don't think you'll be causing us any trouble, will you?" Looking up, he nodded. "Take the hand. We need to see how extensive his regen is."

My vision turned red and I roared in pain as the whining saw bit into my arm.

* * *

**March 18, 2003; Dominican Republic**

A burning pain in my side woke me from the nightmare. Lurching to my feet, I swung my heavy head around in irritation.

Elle stood out of range, with another glowing ball ready. "Are you awake now?"

Shrugging back into my own form, I rubbed my side. "What the fuck was that about?"

Letting the charge dissipate, she shrugged. "You were growling and slashing. I didn't have another way of getting you awake without getting killed." Walking over, she helped me up. "What was going on?"

Shaking my head to clear it, I grimaced as I remembered the nightmare. I could still feel where the saw had cut through my wrist. Grunting, I shrugged out of the pack. "Nightmare."

Stripping, I slipped into the stream and began scrubbing myself clean. Traveling in cat form had many advantages, but it wasn't any cleaner. Glancing up, I saw Elle seated on the shore watching me. Remembering part of the nightmarish memory, I scratched at my wrist. After several minutes, I cleared my throat. "Elle?"

"Yeah?"

"What do you remember about your mother?"

She looked puzzled. "Mom? Not much. Why?"

Finishing my quick bath, I sat on the shore beside her. "Honestly? I don't know. Remember what I told you about mine?"

Shrugging, she ran her fingers through her hair and stared into the water. "You said that Ramirez guy killed her."

"It's the only real memory I have of her. She died trying to protect me."

"At least your's gave a flying fuck."

That statement was blurted out as she came to her feet and stormed back to our packs. Following her, I got dressed and pulled on my pack. I could tell she was crying, but I also knew interfering was a bad idea. This was something she'd tell me when she was ready.

It wasn't until several hours had passed, well on our way down the trail, that she was willing to talk again. Staring straight ahead, subconsciously following my lead, she finally spoke. "She left."

Glancing over, I waited for her to continue. The bitterness in her voice was undeniable. "I don't even remember how old I was, but I'm pretty sure I had already manifested. I remember Daddy telling me how special I was. One night she came into my room and told me to remember, whatever happened tomorrow, that she still loved me." With a sigh, she shrugged and wiped away a tear. "The next morning, Daddy told me she couldn't handle living with me and ran off."

Glancing at her from the corner of my mind, I decided to keep my dream to myself. Even if it turned out to be the truth, I didn't know enough yet to completely turn her world upside down.

Nearly an hour later, Elle pushed her hair back over her shoulder."Hav?"

Looking over at her, I stopped. Whatever she was about to say was important. "Yeah?"

Walking up beside me, she stared into the distance. Finally, she drew another deep breath and glanced over at me. "Did you hear me last night?"

Shrugging, I started following the trail again. We were getting closer, but weren't there yet. "That depends."

I could hear the confusion in her voice. "Depends?"

"On whether or not you wanted me to hear. I might have heard something, but only if you say I should have."

After several minutes of silence, she caught up with me. Grabbing my arm, she forced me to face her. "What the fuck's that supposed to mean?"

Shrugging out of her grip, I fixed my gaze on her without stopping. "What do you think it means, Elle? I heard something last night. Whether it means anything depends entirely on if you want it to mean anything."

I felt her eyes boring into my back for nearly an hour before she spoke up again. "I couldn't say it, Hav. I wanted you to hear it, I wanted to say it, but I couldn't say it to your face."

Sighing quietly, I kept following the trail. "Because of your mother?"

"Among other reasons."

Tossing a glance over my shoulder, I narrowed my eyes. Something in her voice... "Wanna talk about it?"

Shrugging, she shook her head. "Not really." After a few minutes, she took a deep breath. "What're we going to do about this?"

"About what?"

"Damn it, Hav!" Without warning, I felt a burning pain in my shoulder. "I'm serious!"

Rubbing the burn wound, I spun on her. "What the fuck?"

Eyes blazing through unshed tears, she stalked up to me. "You're going to fucking talk to me, Hav."

"About WHAT?" Rotating the burned shoulder, thankful it hadn't been any worse, I glared at her. "You told me you loved me. What the fuck is there to talk about? You wanna hear me say it back?" The look in her eyes told me that was exactly what she wanted. "Damn it, Elle! You fucking know me. Probably better than any other agent in this Godforsaken Company. You know who and what I am."

Moving back along the path, following the scent of our target, I continued. "Love doesn't exactly fit with someone like me, Elle." Sensing the hurt from those words, I shook my head. "Don't get me wrong. I care for you; more than I realized. And that, in and of itself, fucking terrifies me. But love? I don't even know if I'm capable."

"What the fuck's that supposed to mean?" Even though she was behind me, I could picture the expression on her face.

Still moving, I swore. "It means exactly what it fucking sounds like, Elle. I'm a loner. I have been as long as I can fucking remember. You've seen the reactions when we retired agents. I'm the nightmare they prayed wouldn't happen. I've built that reputation carefully, and with attention to detail. I'm not a nice guy, Elle. We both know that. I use everything I've got to fulfill any mission I'm given."

Stopping suddenly, I realized we had followed the scent as far as we needed. Less than a hundred yards away was a small village. The scent trail led right into it. Waving her forward, I dropped my voice. "We can talk about this later, Elle."

Narrowing her eyes, she swore quietly. "Why?"

"Because we're not going to be alone much longer. There's a village not far ahead, and our guy's hiding in it."

"Are you sure?"

I leveled a cold stare at her for an answer.

"Fine, but answer me one thing."

Rolling my eyes, I shook my head. "What?"

Taking my chin in one hand, she forced my head around. Staring into my eyes, she asked, "Do you actually give a fuck about me?"

Squinting in thought briefly, I held her gaze. "Let me put it this way, Elle. Until several years ago, I was completely alone." With a slight smile, I shrugged. "The truth is, I was alone because nobody could really understand me- not even the ones who handled my orders. I've only ever encountered one other agent who could."

Dropping her hand from my chin, she looked away. "Let me guess. The wonder agent, Sarah."

"Oh, for Christ's sake!" Grabbing her arm, I spun her around to face me. "Sarah's probably one of the best agents in the Company, Elle. Her ability lets her kill faster than anyone I know, and she can do it without a fucking trace if she wants. But the ability that makes her so damn good, and so fucking dangerous, terrifies her. She hasn't embraced it the way she needs to." Seeing the blank look in her eyes, I swore. "Damn it, Elle. There's only one damned agent I've ever met who is as completely accepting of what they do as I am. There's only one Special in the Company, at least that I've encountered, who has totally embraced every aspect of their ability as I have. And there's only one person I've met who is as willing to use everything they've got to fulfill the mission as I am. That's you, damn it!"

The look of stunned amazement on her face made me grin. "I don't even know if I can love, Elle, but I do care; probably more than I should. Now, can we talk about this later?" When she nodded, I let go of her arm. "Good. Let's change. We don't want to attract any more attention than we absolutely must."

Ten minutes later, we were carefully walking through the side streets.. Although still following the trail left by our target, part of my mind was wrestling with the familiar sounds and smells of the the village. Everything about the area tugged at my memory, but was unable to find purchase.

The scent I had followed had grown gradually fresher through the entire trip. We had moved faster than he could, and were now immediately behind him. We just had to find him.

"Hav?"

Glancing over my shoulder, I saw Elle pointing to a small, run down, building. "What?"

"I think I just saw him go in there." Narrowing my eyes, I looked the house over. Even as did the town, something about it was familiar.

There was nothing special about the house's appearance. It was a slightly more run down version of the others around it. Comprised of a single floor, with maybe enough space for two or three rooms inside. The exterior had been white at one point, but was now a dirty gray. The two or three windows I could see had been broken, and there were bullet holes in the exterior walls.

Quietly nodding at Elle, I lead the way to the back of the house. Before we made it all the way up the back stairs, I flashed a tight grin. He was definitely here. Gesturing for her to be quiet, I pressed against the door. I could hear him pacing and nearly yelling into the phone in Spanish.

"Damn it, Bernhelm. You didn't tell us who the son of a bitch was unkillable!

"Fuck that, you lousy bastard! He killed the whole fucking team.

"What do you mean, 'what do I mean'? We killed the son of a bitch, grabbed his partner for a little playtime, and ran for it. Less than three fucking days later, he shows up and fucking kills damn near everyone.

"Of course I fucking knew he was dead. We burned a hole in his fucking chest.

"What'd I do? I killed his partner and hauled ass. I doubt he's more than a fucking day behind me!

"What do I want? I want you to get me the fuck out of this. If I'd known what you were getting us into, I would've told you to shove it up your fucking ass! It's too late now. You get me out of this, or I'll tell him everything."

With a vicious grin, I kicked in the door and leapt through the opening. He barely had time to turn toward the sound before I tackled him. By the time he knew what was happening, I had my gun in his mouth. Bending down, I whispered into his ear, "You're not going to scream. You're going to lay right here and not make a fucking noise. If you do anything else, make the slightest noise that I don't like, I promise to make your final moments so exquisitely painful that whatever hell is waiting for you will feel like heaven. Understand me?" When he nodded, I put the gun away and rolled off him. Picking up the phone, I laughed. "Hello, Claus."

A lightly accented voice came over the line. "Who the fuck is this?"

With a harsh laugh, I dropped my voice. "I'm the guy who's going to kill you."

Chuckling suddenly, his amused voice irritated me. "That's not possible, my friend. I'm unkillable."

Lowering my voice to a whisper, I growled, "Even for Havoc, Claus?" Dropping the phone before he could answer, I slammed the heel of my boot into it.

Glancing over at our captive, I narrowed my eyes. "I think it's time for some answers. Who are you?"

Staring at Elle in horror, he whispered, "Pablo." When she winked at him, he nearly passed out. "_Usted es muerto_!"

Blowing him a kiss, she laughed. "Obviously not."

"_¿Cómo?_"

"None of your business, Pablo." Glancing around the room, I shrugged. "I heard you talking to our friend there. You're going to tell me about that deal you mentioned."

"No, I'm not."

Grinning, I backhanded him nearly hard enough to break his jaw. "I was hoping you'd say that."

Standing up, I looked around and found a dirty rag. Shoving that in his mouth, I used some duct tape to secure it in place. Considering options, I glanced back at Elle and shrugged. "You're the one he killed. Give him a hint of how unpleasant this can get."

While she gave him a small sample of what she could do, eliciting screams I could hear muffled by his gag, I started looking around the house. For reasons I couldn't quite understand, every inch of the house was familiar.

Subconsciously following a path I could have sworn I had never walked, I entered a small room. Although it was long empty, my mind filled in the blanks. Along the wall opposite the door should have been a small bed, the right size for a boy of maybe three years. The wall nearest the bed should have had a small dresser.

When I realized what I was seeing, another key turned in my memory.

* * *

**Unknown Date; "Home"**

_Mami_ had been unusually restive all day. Even I could see it, and I was only two. "What's wrong, _Mami_?"

With a smile, she knelt and pulled me into a hug. "Nothing, _mi hijo_. Your _papá _ is coming today, that's all."

_Papá _. She'd told me stories about him. The unkillable hero who had saved our village from the horde. The god-man who had taken her heart for his own. I'd never seen him. Apparently he had other places where his heroic actions were needed.

But today would be different. Today he would come. Today I would meet my father.

* * *

**March 18, 2003; Dominican Republic**

Blinking, I found myself sitting where my bed had been nearly thirty years ago. The memory returned as clear as crystal. I had obviously forgotten that day, or been encouraged to forget it. It was the day I finally met Adam Monroe, my father.

I remember him walking into the house. I remember being wary of him, as young children tend to be of strangers. Mom obviously loved him, but even at two years old something about him bothered me.

He played with me for a little while, but he was obviously not comfortable around me. Then he and my mother vanished for quite a while.

He stayed for a couple of days. I remember most the last hours. He and _mami_ fought. I never heard the words clearly, because I had been put to bed, and they were in the other side of the house. When he left, Mom was furious with him.

On the heels of that memory returned the memory of my last night in this house.

* * *

**Unknown Date; "Home"**

"Give us the boy, and you get to live."

"Never!"

The voices woke me up. I couldn't make out everything, but I could hear some of what they were saying. Sitting up in my bed, I glanced out the window. There was gunfire scattered around town. Several people lay dying in the street. Houses in the distance had been set ablaze.

"Damn it, bitch-whore, the kid's coming with us whether you like it or not!"

"I'll kill you first!" _Mami_'s voice was raised in fury.

I sat up, pulling the blanket around my neck in fear as the raised voices came closer. Suddenly I heard a loud blow and my Mom's pained scream. She came crashing through the door, and falling to my floor.

Rolling to her feet, she snarled and leapt across the room. I had seen her change only a handful of times in my short life. Even as the catlike roar came from her mouth, a single shot echoed in the room.

The leader of the strangers stepped over _Mami_'s suddenly still form. "Good. The bitch is dead. Now to collect the cub."

Ripping the blankets away from my body, he grinned a vicious smile that did nothing to warm his eyes. "Excellent. I believe I have a buyer in place. I may make a decent profit off this little venture yet."

From behind him, one of his men cleared their throat. "Boss?"

Speaking over his shoulder, he growled out, "What?"

"He wanted them both dead. That's what he paid for."

Throwing me to the bed, he spun around and aimed his pistol, still warm from the killing shot, directly at his man. "And? The cunt is dead. If the man I'm thinking of doesn't want him, we can still kill the cub. If the buyer takes him, he'll die eventually anyway. Either way, he gets his wish, and we get a larger profit." Cocking his head slightly, he put pressure on the trigger. "If you have a problem with that, I can retire you now."

When his man backed off, he put the gun away. "Grab the brat. I'll call this Adam Monroe and tell him we've done as he asked." Stepping back over _Mami_'s body, he shook his head. "Then we'll meet the buyer. I think he'll pay a small fortune for this one."

* * *

**March 18, 2003; Dominican Republic**

"Hav?" I felt Elle shaking me. Looking up, I saw her worried expression. "I heard you scream from the other room. What's up?"

Shaking my head, I wiped the tears away with one hand. "I'm not really sure. I just had a weird flash of memory." Looking back out the window, I shrugged. "I'll need to think about it some to figure out what it means."

That wasn't the complete truth. I knew what the memory meant; just not what I was going to do about it.

"All right. Pablo's ready to talk. He knows how bad it'll get if he doesn't"

With a grin, I stood up. "Let's get some answers."


	11. Chapter 11: Bullets And Blood

**March 18, 2003; Dominican Republic**

We were riding the helicopter back to Santo Domingo. From there, we'll take a Company jet to Tokyo. Pablo's information strongly indicated that we'd either find Claus, or more of his stooges, there.

My past was in flames. After extracting the last piece of information, we had killed him. Then we waited for dark. As soon as darkness fell, we burned the body and the house. From several miles away, we called for the helicopter.

Now, I relaxed in my seat. It wasn't going to be a long flight, but it would be long enough. I closed my eyes for the first good sleep I'd had in days.

* * *

**June 23, 2000; New Orleans, Louisiana**

We sat in the bar, as inconspicuous as possible for a pair of tourists. My normal pattern was to hunt by quietly blending in nearly to the point of invisibility. For a variety of reasons, not least our accents, that was impossible this time.

So we went the other route. We hid in plain site. We hit New Orleans with the force of a hurricane. The past week, to any outsider, had been a drunken carouse. We hit every souvenir shop, nearly every bar, and every restaurant offering "authentic"Cajun food. We allowed ourselves to be cheated outrageously by the local gamblers. In short, we acted as the worst of the stereotypical tourists. Unsurprisingly, it worked. Our target had seen us several times, even accepting a drink from us during one of our moments of drunken generosity, and never spared us a second glance.

Tonight was the payoff. For the purpose of this mission, I had been given a new partner. Glancing across the table, I took another long drink of beer to conceal my disgust. He was going by the name Blake, although some quiet digging had uncovered the name Adian listed as his birth name. The time we'd already been forced to spend together told me that Thompson, although possibly a competent agent, was little more than a frat boy. Sex and beer were his only apparent interests, and I sensed a weakness that drew nothing but contempt. I couldn't wait for the mission to be over so I could either work solo, my preference, or at least be given a more tolerable partner.

Our target was a rogue Body Shifter. Born and recruited under the name Konnor Bertie, the nearly forty year old had over a dozen aliases that we knew of. His ability meant he could become nearly any person on the planet. Man, woman, young, old, it didn't matter. He could hide from virtually any agent on the planet, and he had done so for months. That was why I was assigned the mission. He could change nearly everything but his scent.

Looking over the rim of my beer mug, I watched a stunning brunette leave the bar. Once she was out of sight, I nodded to Thompson. Several seconds later, he hurried out while I paid.

The man at the register glanced after him while he took my money. "Where's your pal going?"

Laughing, I shrugged. "That brunette that just left? He's gonna try his luck with her."

Grinning, he shook his head and handed me my change. "Not a chance. She's been in maybe half a dozen times, but she never takes any of the boys home."

Pocketing my change, I handed him a tip and shrugged. "I bet him twenty she'd tell him to buy some Vaseline and a Penthouse."

* * *

**March 18, 2003; Santo Domingo, Dominican Republic**

After boarding the Company jet, Elle immediately went into one of the cabins and started her shower. I dropped into one of the seats near a phone. Closing my eyes, I picked up the receiver and dialed the extension.

"Yamagato Industries. To whom may I direct your call?" The voice sounded young and perky.

Grunting under my breath, I switched to Japanese. "Is Mr. Nakamura in?"

The voice chilled. "I'm sorry. Mr. Nakamura does not accept unsolicited-"

Interrupting, I growled, "I'm calling on behalf of Mr. Bishop. When you ask Mr. Nakamura for permission to put the call through, give him the phrase, '_Nakigoe Sangai_'."

After several seconds, Kaito Nakamura's voice came over the line. "Who is this?"

"You have my code, sir."

"Which is why you are speaking to me. Who are you?"

Rolling my eyes, I growled. "Havoc."

"And why the call?"

"Myself and Elle Bishop are en route to you now. Something's come up."

"Does this involve the rogue agent?"

Attempting to cover my mild surprise, I said, "Yes."

"What do you need from me?"

"Primarily a meeting. We have reason to believe you are in danger."

After a long pause, he coughed lightly. "I see." Another pause. "Can you speak clearly?"

"Is the line secure?" After a couple seconds, he said it was. "All right. Have Bob and Linderman filled you in?"

"Bernhelm was working for Monroe."

"And, for reasons I don't know and could give a flying fuck about, Bernhelm's after your hide."

"I see. When will your flight arrive?"

Glancing at the clock, I yawned. "From what the pilot said, we should be there by noon on the twentieth."

"Very good. A car will be waiting."

After he disconnected, I replaced the phone, and went back to the cabins. Stripping even before the door closed, I slid into the shower. Ten minutes later, I was relaxing under the steaming blast of hot water.

Several minutes later, Elle slid into the stall with me. Without a word, she forced my head down to meet hers. After several seconds, during which our hands explored each other, I felt her kiss tighten into a grin. Suddenly breaking contact, she began working her way down my body, tracing a path with her lips and tongue. When her mouth found a new home, I leaned against the wall and let the water pour down my chest.

* * *

**June 23, 2000; New Orleans, Louisiana**

"What the fuck were you thinking?" Thompson was curled on the ground near the wall, holding his ribs with one hand, and his head with the other. The wooden board that had put him in this condition had been tossed against the other wall while Konnor ran away.

Groaning, he rolled into the wall. "The bastard had someone waiting. I followed him in here, I was gonna try and get him to our motel room like we planned. Next thing I know, someone smashed my ribs and head."

Barely restraining my temper, I shook my head. "Don't pull that shit on me, Thompson. You were following Bertie, he spotted you and ran in here, and like a fucking rookie you gave chase. You lost visual, Bertie changed and waited for you to run right the fuck into his board. Fuck it. If I'd known you liked dog ass so much, I'd have dropped you off at the pound and brought this idiot down on my own."

Trying to stand, he tried to stare at me. "What the hell's that mean?"

There was already a wicked bruise cutting across his face. "It means you shoved it so far up the pooch he'll have to open his mouth for you to squirt." Pacing to the end of the alley, I followed the scent to a locked door. "Shit!" Glancing back, I shook my head. "Christ, you're the biggest fuck-up I've ever worked with." Taking a deep breath, I thought quickly. "All right, Dumb Fuck Thompson, I think I've got a way to get this done. I'll trail this dumb ass and give him his Golden Handshake. Shouldn't take more than an hour to find him."

"What about me?"

"You're gonna stay here and try to figure out how to keep Bob from killing you personally when we get back."

Pushing himself away from the wall, he winced over to me. "I'm your fucking partner on this op, and I'm going with you."

Barely managing to conceal my hatred, I gave him a cold stare. "You're a waste of training, Thompson. Any rookie agent knows better than to pull this dumb-ass stunt.. Hell, you're damned lucky he didn't realize you were with the fucking Company, or he'd have finished the job. If you tag along, we're both dead."

Turning around, I walked away from him. After several seconds, he ran up behind me and grabbed my arm. Before he knew what was happening, he was face down on the ground with my knee in the small of his back and his right arm twisted nearly to the breaking point. "Listen, you dumb fuck, the only reason you're in the field is because of your father. There's no way your trainer could have thought you were actually ready. The only reason I don't fucking rip your arm off and beat you to death with it is because I don't want to have to explain to Bob how badly you took it up the ass on this mission. So I'm going to take out Konnor, and you're going to stay right the fuck here. Do you understand?"

When he didn't reply, I torqued the pressure on the arm, and bent down to his ear. "I asked you a question, dill weed!"

When he grudgingly squealed acceptance, I let him go and walked down the alley, following the trail left by the target. Thanks to my incompetent partner, the job had just gotten a harder. Konnor would be on his guard now.

* * *

**March 19, 2003; Hawaii**

Our bodies tightened, our hips pounding together, as that most pleasant of sensations took control. After the violent simultaneous climax, Elle collapsed onto my chest, her silky blond hair fanning over our sweaty bodies. Panting, I traced my hand along her spine, eliciting a pleased moan.

After several minutes, I rolled out from under her. Pressing my lips to the base of her throat, I gently caressed her breasts. Her breath started to come faster as I continued my exploration. Just as we had reached the point of being extremely interested in each other again, the intercom buzzed.

Swearing under my breath, I broke contact and hit the button. "What is it?"

"We're getting ready to touch down in Honolulu. It'll take a little while to get the plane refueled, and we've both got to rest for a couple hours before we're flight ready again. We'll let you know when we're ready to launch."

"Sounds good. How long until we land?"

"About ten minutes. We're starting procedures now."

"Roger. We'll be ready." No time to finish what we'd just started, but there would be a dozen hours or better on the flight to Japan.

An hour later, we were eating a light meal while staring out over the crashing waves.

* * *

**June 23, 2000; New Orleans, Louisiana**

It had been about an hour. I picked the lock on the door and had followed the trail to a building that could best be described as a crack den. My nostrils were assaulted by a cornucopia of mind altering chemicals. Unwashed bodies, bodily fluids and cheap booze mixed with the drug haze to create a nauseating odor I could barely tolerate.

Even worse than the stomach churning nature of the mixed odor was the fact that it successfully buried all trace of the scent I had followed. I would have to be careful.

Entering the house, I stopped just inside the door to let my eyes adjust to the dim light. I may not have been able to smell much, but my hearing was unaffected as, once I had taken the needed seconds to adjust, was my sight.

I was confronted by a dozen denizens of the gutter, all lying in the hall, almost completely in the grip of their narcotic of choice. Shaking my head, I glanced sharply at each body, keeping my ears open for the slightest sound that would indicate either an attack or that things were not how they seemed.

My target was, apparently, not in the hallway. I kept a reserve on that thought, because I couldn't be absolutely positive. I was, however, certain enough to begin plowing through the rest of the trashed house.

Several minutes later, I kicked in a battered door. In a filthy bedroom, on a battered and disgusting mattress in the corner, a brutal looking man was violently thrusting himself into a hopeless girl of maybe fourteen. At the shotgun sound of the door slamming into the wall, he swung his heavy head around. "Hold yer horses. You can have her when I'm done."

I shrugged and almost turned away. I had a job, and there was only one death authorized. Something stopped me. Glancing closely at the girl, I saw a small mark on the outside of her right thigh, near her hip. Normally innocuous, and possibly coincidental, it was also the single distinguishing mark my target was unable to conceal when he changed shape.

With a light grin, I took the chance. "I don't think so, porky. The little girl and I have some unfinished business to take care of."

With a growl, he pulled out and lurched to his feet. "Y' fuckin' moron! I said you could have her when I was done!"

With a harsh laugh, I ran my eye over my opponent. Looked like I'd have a little collateral damage on this mission. Maybe a short warning would back him off. Unlikely, but worth a shot. "If you wanna live long enough to screw yourself into the hospital with crack whores, you'll back off and let me have her now."

With a roar, he charged.

* * *

**March 20, 2003; Tokyo, Japan**

An overpowering odor stirred me to wakefulness. Elle and I lay where we had collapsed after another marathon session lasting several hours. She lay sprawled across my chest, one hand lightly brushing the inner thigh of the leg she had tied her legs around. Blinking the sleep away, I traced down the odor.

"Fuck!" So much for any repeat performances over the next week. Shaking her awake, I let her use the small bathroom and shower to do the necessary. While she was doing that, I glanced at the clock. A little after 10, so time to be waking up anyway.

Twenty minutes later, she came out wearing a conservative business suit. Twenty minutes after that, I had also showered, shaved, and dressed in a similar suit. As we ate the early lunch provided for us, we looked through the notes.

Unfortunately, there wasn't much available to us right now. We had a lot of information, but nothing tying it together. If we got lucky, we'd be able to fix that soon. Buzzing the pilot, I asked, "What time is it in Tokyo right now?"

"Uhh...about ten 'til noon."

"How long until we land?"

"Unless something goes wrong, we'll be landed in about a half hour. We hit a small delay because of weather."

"So we'll be down around 12:30 local time?"

"Sounds about right."

Picking up the phone nearby, I called Kaito. "We'll be down in about a half hour, Mr. Nakamura."

"I will be waiting. You will be landing in my private airfield. Come immediately to the vehicle, my people will take care of your luggage."

"Understood, sir." Hanging up the phone, I shook my head. "Christ, I hate dealing with him."

Smiling quickly, Elle brushed her hair over her shoulder. "Why?"

"Because he's the single most conservative, make that fucking hide-bound, Japanese man I've ever dealt with."

"Daddy doesn't like him that much either."

Blinking quickly, I bit back the immediate retort and shrugged. Hopefully, we wouldn't be here that long.

* * *

**June 23, 2000; New Orleans, Louisiana**

Stepping over the naked thug's broken, bloody, and manifestly dead body, I approached the scrawny whore. Killing the massive idiot had taken seconds, and she stared at me in horror. Breathing lightly, I wiped the blood from my hands and kicked her tattered clothing over to her. "Get dressed."

Five minutes later, I followed her trembling body out the back door of the house. Not long after that, the overpowering sensory input from the drug den cleared enough for me to discern the identifying odor of the filthy girl in front of me. I allowed myself a nearly imperceptible sigh of relief.

Once I was certain we were completely unobserved, I roughly grabbed her by the back of the neck and steered her into a boarded house. Once we were safely inside, I threw her roughly to the ground. Folding my arms across my chest, I glared at her through the dark glasses. Looking up at me, she rubbed where my grip had been. "What's the big deal?"

"Shut up, Konnor."

"Who the fuck's that?"

Ripping off my glasses, I let her get a solid look at my eyes. I flashed an evil smile at her horrified gasp; everybody in the Company knew, and feared, those eyes. Dropping my voice to a menacing growl, I crouched. "Don't pull that shit, Bertie boy. You know me." At his terrified nod, I shook my head in disgust; I'd hoped for more of a challenge. "Change."

Before my eyes, the horrified waif seemed almost to melt into a larger man in his early thirties. The shoulder length, mousy hair became a dark red. The hopeless brown eyes shifted to a dark green, filled with rage and terror. Obviously, the Irish heritage bred true. The clothing that had hung from the scrawny frame of the teen prostitute barely contained the heavily muscled form of the renegade agent. Standing to his feet, he stared at me. "What d'you want with me?"

Shrugging out of my duster, I grinned. "Let's just say, Bob's not pleased with your actions lately."

His eyes took on a trapped quality, and he began to exude the fear scent. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"I think you do, Konnor." Dropping any pretense of civility, I flexed my hands and glared at him "Did you really think you could leave?"

As I approached, he tried to back away, his eye wide with terror. "I...I...I can...I can pay!"

Stopping briefly, I pretended to consider the option. "How much?"

Grasping at the sliver of hope, he pulled a small wallet out of the slim, tattered, purse that had completed his disguise. Digging through, he showed me a small card. "It's under a clean identity. Better than ten grand. The PIN's on the back. All you have to do is let me go."

Extending my hand, I took the card. Glancing at it quickly, I nodded and slid it into my pocket. As the fear scent subsided slightly, I grinned and did a rapid double step toward him. Before he could react, I flicked the finger tips of my right across his throat, crushing his larynx. As he began gasping, I slammed my left into the nerve cluster at the join between throat and shoulder, and smashed my knee into his groin.

As he lay on the ground, gasping for air and holding his ruined crotch, I grinned. "I don't like being bribed, Konnor." Stomping on his knee, grinning as I felt it break, I said, "And I don't like cowards."

Slamming the steel-reinforced tip of my boot into his ribcage, grunting in satisfaction as I felt the bone shatter under the force, I shook my head. "You could have died quickly and relatively painlessly."

Bending down, I pulled him up by his ruined throat. "That was the option Bob wanted me to give you, dumb fuck." Taking my combat knife from the small of my back, I traced a path down his forehead and lightly cutting across his nose. "Instead, you had to do the one thing that always pisses me off." Pressing the blade into his cheek just hard enough to penetrate, I dragged the blade up toward his high, laughing at his silent screams. "That means you die slowly and with a new understanding of pain."

By the time I left the place to burn, the sun had been down for over an hour. Konnor had finally been allowed to die, although not before every possible ounce of pain had been extracted. His body, already an unrecognizable, barely human, mess by the time I finally cut his throat, would soon be burned beyond recognition.

Meeting Thompson in the alley, I ignored his questions and complaints as we went to the motel where I washed and packed. Throwing his bag at him, I glanced at the card the target had bribed me with. "Let's stop by the bank on our way to the airport." At his questioning stare, I shrugged. "He offered me a bonus not to kill him. No sense wasting the money."

* * *

**March 20, 2003; Tokyo, Japan**

By the time the jet rolled to a stop, Elle and I had grabbed the bags we brought on board and were waiting for the door to open. Pausing at the top of the steps, I glanced around. Something was wrong, but I couldn't quite place it.

Shaking off the feeling, I began to cross the dozen yards to the limo, with Elle immediately behind me. Less than ten steps from the car, everything came clear. Dropping my bag, I waved Kaito, his guard and who I took to be the driver down. "Into the car! Now!"

Ignoring them for a second, I cast about. I could smell two, but I couldn't quite place them. Too many smells vying for attention even at a small airport, and I hadn't quite had time to sort them all out. Elle had pressed up behind me, one hand readying a ball of electricity, the other pressed against my back. "What is it, Hav?"

A second later, two men stood from opposite ends of a fuel truck and opened fire. Without thinking, I shoved Elle back even as I leapt into a rolling dive. Without thinking, I morphed into cat form even as I came out of my roll. I felt one bullet crease my ribs, but nothing else touched me. With the instincts drilled into me from years of training, combined with the reflexes and automatic reactions of the form itself, I turned at the last second and launched myself at the nearest gunman.

Before he had time to do more than scream, I landed on him, crushing his skull with my powerful jaws as we fell to the ground. Blood dripping from my muzzle, I glanced around. The fuel truck was parked, length-wise, between the gunmen, so I was temporarily blocked from his view. With a low growl of pleasure, I jumped to the top of the truck and began padding across, careful to keep my form low so my shadow wouldn't be as obvious.

The idiot was still firing wildly, his bullets hitting everything but the people he was supposed to be killing. Just as I jumped down, I was slammed with an electric blast. "We need him alive, Havoc!" Rolling to my feet, I growled loudly and began to pace around the gunman.

As soon as I heard the dry click and saw the panicked expression on his face, I roared as loudly as possible and jumped. In the air I shifted to man shape, completing the transformation before landing on him. When we landed, I had my gun in his mouth. "You want to be very careful right now." Seeing the horror in his eyes, I grinned, letting him see his partner's blood that still colored my teeth. "Ditch the gun."

After he convulsively tossed it aside, I quickly rolled him onto his stomach, and pressed my foot to the back of his head while I stood to look around. Kaito was standing near the car, apparently unmoved despite the violence that had erupted. One of the men with him lay dead while the other one was bleeding from an arm wound. Elle was back on her feet and trying to brush the dust and dirt from her suit.

Bending down, I grabbed him by the back of his throat and lifted him up. My gun vanished, to be replaced by a small knife I placed at the small of his back. "You will walk, slowly, to the limo. If you so much as fucking twitch, I'll carve out your kidney. Now, move." Prodding him forward with the blade, we crossed to the car. Just before we reached it, I slammed my fist into the back of his skull and caught him as he fell.

Dumping him over my shoulder, I looked at Kaito. "In the trunk, or with us?" At Kaito's nod, the trunk was opened. Glancing quickly, I realized the driver was still in the limo. Shrugging, I dumped the unconscious gunman into the trunk, and glanced back to make sure Elle was okay.

She had finished dusting herself off, and came stalking over to me. "If you ever push me out of the way like that again, I swear I'll fry your ass!"

Shrugging, I apologized and turned back to Kaito. His expression remained frozen as he looked carefully at us before grunting and gesturing us to join him in the back of the car, with the surviving guard taking the front passenger seat.. Once we were seated, Kaito in the plush seat opposite us, he knocked on the glass and we pulled out.

On the road, he handed me a glass of water. "Rinse your mouth." Once I had done so, he glanced out the window. "We will be going to the Yamagato Fellowship. I have offices there where we will be undisturbed." Moving his impassive gaze back to me, he cleared his throat. "My driver and my guard are Agents within the Company. The scene is already being cleaned. Now, tell me what is happening."

Shaking my head, I glanced at Elle. When she waved me ahead, I rolled my eyes. Speaking in Japanese, as a courtesy even though I knew he spoke English, I asked, "Remember what we discussed on the phone?"

When he nodded, I continued. "As I said, the rogue, Bernhelm, is apparently working with, more likely for, Adam. He's been running around, setting up fall back positions as well as funding and recruiting for what seems likely to be a power play, possibly a takeover. He's also been attempting to settle some scores, for himself and for Adam. We learned you were on the list while we were taking care of things in the Dominican Republic."

Jerking his head once in a sharp nod, he narrowed his eyes in thought. "Neither of these were Bernhelm. Do you know who they were?"

Shrugging, I relaxed into the seat. "No. He shows a tendency to recruit local help. I'll know more once Elle and I spend a little time persuading Trunk Boy to talk."

"No!" His sharp tone shocked me. "I have ways to learn what he knows that are far more elegant and efficient than your interrogation techniques. I will learn what we need to know, and pass it on to you."

Putting a restraining hand on Elle's arm, I leaned forward. Switching to English, I lowered my voice. "Listen, Nakamura. I don't give a fuck whether you like our methods or not. I don't give a fuck if you have a better, or what you feel is more reliable, way to extract information. But I will be damned if you keep us out of the loop."

"You will do as you're told."

"Bull-fucking-shit! We do NOT fucking answer to you. We work for Bob, and are on loan to Linderman. I contacted you as a courtesy, damn it. I respect you, and am more than willing to work WITH you, but I will be damned if I will work FOR you!"

Sitting back stiffly, he stared at me. "Very well. What do you recommend?"

Looking at Elle, I shrugged. "Let us get settled in. I assume you're talking about using drugs to loosen his tongue?" At his nod, I thought quickly. "In that case, just let us know when the drugs have had time to take effect." Fixing my gaze on him, I emphasized the next statement. "If the drugs don't work, we do things our way."

"Very well. You will be given separate quarters within the Fellowship campus. When he is ready to talk, you will be informed.."

* * *

**Unknown Date; "Home"**

I should have been asleep. _Mami_ had put me in my room after a tense dinner. The raised voices woke me up.

"He is your son!" The voice was hers, and she sounded angry.

"You told me when we first got involved that you couldn't even get pregnant. Now you tell me not only did you have a child, but he's mine? Why should I believe you?" The voice was the man she had introduced as my _papi_. His voice was insulting and arrogant.

"Look at him, for God's sake!"

"Fine. If, as you say, he is my son he belongs with me."

"You will not take him. His only life is with me. You will not take him to your masters. He will remain with me."

"I think not, _puta_." He snarled the vile imprecation.

The slap came like a shot. "_Coito de madre_! Leave! Before you even think of coming back remember one thing; I know your secret, _monstruo_, and I know who you work for. I will destroy you if you come near me or my son again!"

There was silence for a moment, and than a louder slap followed by a scream and tearing cloth. "I will leave, _mujerzuela_, after you have given me what I came for."

This was followed by a long silence interrupted by _mami_'s screams and his grunts. Eventually it stopped. "Never make the mistake of hitting me, or even of thinking you have the upper hand, again, _chucha_. You won't like what happens."

* * *

**March 20, 2003; Tokyo, Japan**

The knock on my door woke me up. Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I looked at the clock. I'd been asleep a couple hours anyway. "What is it?"

Elle opened the door, followed by Kaito. "They say he should be ready to talk."

Grinning, I set aside the dream I'd just had. It was time to find out where Bernhelm was hiding.


	12. Chapter 12: I Have Dreamed A Dream

**March 20, 2003; Tokyo, Japan**

The questions had gone on for hours. I stood near the door, Elle beside me, as we watched Kaito's interrogator attempt to get the slightest information from his patient. There was something wrong here, but I couldn't place it.

The questions began with the inconsequential; confirmation on what we already knew. We confirmed that he and his dead friend had been hired by Claus Bernhelm to kill Kaito Nakamura, as well as anyone else in the vicinity. He had been told there might be interference, but hadn't been told what form it would take.

When the medic administering the drug nodded, Kaito took over the interrogation. "You were hired to attack, possibly kill, any who were present. How did you learn not only the location, but also the time?"

"Lucky guess. He told me you were expecting someone, and I got a bonus if they died."

Cocking my ear, I took a sampling of his scent. It couldn't be, but it was. "He's lying."

The medic's hear whipped around in shock even as our captive turned white. "Impossible. That cocktail would make the devil an honest man."

Narrowing my eyes, I approached. "That may be, but he's definitely lying." Closing my eyes, I tested his scent again. Inhaling, I realized what had been bothering me. There wasn't even the slightest trace of the cocktail. "Fascinating." Opening my eyes, I glanced over at the bag. "Do you have any ketamine?"

"Why?"

"I want to test something. If I'm right, the results will be interesting."

After receiving a curt nod from Kaito, the medic shrugged and opened his bag. Tapping the air out of the needle, he injected it directly into the carotid. Then he sat back. "It should only take a couple of minutes."

Five minutes passed into half an hour. Half an hour became one hour. After three hours, I started laughing. When Kaito, Elle and the medic spun to look at me, I walked over to our captive. Lifting his chin, I twisted his head to the side hard enough to make him gasp with pain. Closing my eyes, I carefully sniffed along the artery. Grunting, I released him. "It's what I thought. This punk's immune."

Narrowing his eyes, the medic raised his eyebrow skeptically. "Immune?"

"What the fuck else would you call it? Drugs don't work with him. The cocktail you gave him earlier should have left him reeking of chemicals, and not a damn thing on this planet smells like a man doped on ketamine. This guy's scent is to damned clean." Nodding at Elle, I grabbed the back of his neck and squeezed just enough to make him wince. "That means we do this my way."

Kaito sighed. "Tomorrow he is yours, Havoc. Tonight we test him."

* * *

**Deveaux Building, New York**

"Hello, Michael."

Cracking open my eyes, I realized I was no longer in bed in the small apartment hidden under the main Fellowship campus. "What the fuck?"

Sitting up and looking around, I saw I was on the patio of the Deveaux building. Charles was seated at a small table, roughly in the center of the area. Climbing to my feet, I went over. "Is all this your doing, Charles?"

With a short smile, he looked around. "We needed to talk, and I prefer to do so in a friendly environment." Leaning back slightly, he pushed out a chair with his foot. "Please, be seated."

Taking the offered chair, I glanced around quickly. "I had no idea you had this kind of range. Last I heard, your were in Vegas checking up on the Sanders-Hawkins family."

"So I am. But, when you're asleep your mind is free. That's how I could bring you here." Shifting in his seat, he scratched his chin in silent thought. "What can you tell me about the Company? Specifically its purpose?"

Thinking about it for a minute, I shrugged. "Which version do you want?"

"Pardon?"

"Do you want me to puke out the Company line they've been force-feeding me since I was brought in? Or do you want me to be honest?"

Raising an eyebrow, he smiled. "You don't buy into the Company line?"

Remembering an old mission, I shook my head and laughed. "Not anymore. At least, not entirely."

"What's your version, then?"

Leaning back, I stared down at the table uncomfortably. "Maybe, at one time, the Company line was true. I don't know about that. But not anymore. Now the Company exists to keep itself secret, and to gain power. In that order. Both ends are served by recruiting, willingly or not, those who can help, and eliminating, through incarceration or death, those who won't."

"So you don't believe in the good intent of the Company?"

I couldn't restrain a cynical laugh. "Does anyone? Don't get me wrong, the Company does manage to do some good. The uncontrolled or violent are either imprisoned or eliminated. To keep us secret is to keep us safe. That's a side effect, not the Company's true _r__aison d'être_."

Rubbing thoughtfully at his chin, Charles stared at me for several minutes. "I think you'd be surprised how many true believers remain, Michael; your partner and,to a lesser extent, your mentor among them. That's largely immaterial. If you're not a believer, why haven't you left?"

A snort of disbelief nearly interrupted him. "For Christ's sake, Deveaux. You know the drill. You don't quit. If you try, they send someone to give you a Handshake. And, although I could evade or kill nearly every agent sent after me," I held back the name of the only agent I wasn't certain I could dodge, "I don't relish spending my life looking over my shoulder."

Pausing to think about it for a minute, I admitted the deeper truth. "Not that it matters, because I can't even imagine leaving."

"Why not?"

"You've read my file, Charles. I'm a violent, frequently vicious, person. I was already capable of murder when I was brought in, and Noah trained me to be the perfect Hunter/Killer. I'm violent, frequently vicious. The shrinks all agree that I'm a sick, twisted individual, and they spend a lot of their free time trying to invent words to explain just how fucked up I am.

"The truth is, the Company is the best place for me. Out There," with a vague hand wave to indicate the world outside of the Company, " I'd be just another violent head case they either kept locked up and sedated, or executed. Inside I'm useful.

"Outside, I'd be uncontrolled and uncontrollable. I wouldn't have had someone like Noah to help me harness my emotions and abilities. Inside, I did. Because of that, I've become a legend; a terror.

"Outside, I'd live a short, purposeless, bloody life. Inside, regardless my opinion of the Company's mission, I can actually be useful."

After several more minutes of silence, both of us lost in thought, he glanced slyly at me. "And what about Elle?"

Blinking rapidly in surprise, I tried to figure out where this was going. "What about...Wait...What the fuck's she got to do with this?"

"She loves you."

Staring at him in blank incomprehension, it was all I could do to say, "I...know. She told me a couple days ago."

"You have absolutely no idea where I'm going with this, do you?" Without waiting for an answer, he fixed me with a penetrating look. Leaning forward, all pretense at humor dropped, he asked, "And what are your feelings toward her?"

For some reason, I found the question profoundly disturbing. Falling back in my chair, I absently scratched at my palm. "How do I...What the...I.." Unable to take my eyes away from his, I shook my head slightly. "I...I don't...actually know."

Nodding, he leaned back slightly. "As you said, I've read your file. More importantly, I've come to know you. In pursuit of a mission you can be violent, even vicious. You will do whatever needs doing in order to obtain information you feel necessary to accomplish a mission. Lies, theft, seduction, even torture. You can be cruel, but never more than you deem necessary.

"And yet... Andrew Richardson, Ray Mendoza and Michael Turner, in that order, as well as several others, names I'm sure you'll recognize, have turned up dead. Not just dead, but brutally massacred.

"As I said, I know you. I'm also the only one inside the Company who knows the true story about those deaths. Why did you take the time and effort to make those deaths as excruciatingly painful as you did?"

I was suddenly furious, but also oddly confused. Shoving away from the table, I lurched to my feet and walked over to the edge of the rood. After staring blankly out over the city for several minutes, I closed my eyes and massaged the bridge of my nose. "I...I guess I'm not really sure. Justice, maybe? Vengeance?"

"Revenge? For what happened years earlier to a girl you barely knew? A temporary partner? Even an encumbrance?"

Spinning in nearly blind fury, I barely restrained myself from attacking him. "She WASN'T a fucking encumbrance. She saved my FUCKING life! I owed her!"

Folding his arms across his chest, he watched with subtle amusement as I reacted to his jibes. "Really? Michael, you'd decided to take out those agents long before that point. I gave you the names, remember? Why did you decide to avenge her before you really knew her? Why did you resist her advances until you were certain both of you were ready? Why did it feel-"

"What the FUCK do you want to hear?" My fury had been building under his gentle probing, fueled by a discomfort I couldn't quite place. "That I love her? That what started as an unusual level of pity and sympathy didn't even last until the end of that first mission before morphing into something alien? You wanna know the fucking truth? Christ, Charles, it damn near killed me when she died. It felt like a piece of whatever passes for my soul had been ripped the fuck out! Is that what you wanted to hear? FINE! CONSIDER IT FUCKING SAID!" All of the fury vanished, replaced by an odd sense of freedom and wonder.

"Is this the first you've admitted it? Even to yourself?"

Still puzzling over what I had said, and even more over the emotions that led to the statement, I slowly walked to the table and sank into the chair. "I've... hell, I guess I've been...afraid to. You need an edge in my line of work, Charles, or you end up dead. Love endangers that edge."

He suddenly leaned forward and fastened an iron grip on my wrist. "Bull shit!" My face must have betrayed my shock at his unexpected, and unusual, language. "Love threatens your edge? Damn it, Michael, love takes what edge you have and makes it ten time, a hundred times, stronger. Remember what you did to Elle's ex-partners? The ones who raped and beat her? That is most definitely not the work of a man losing his edge. There is no stronger force on earth than love!" Releasing his grip, he leaned back. "Remember that"

Reaching into his breast pocket, he pulled out a small card. "That brings me to the final reason I brought you here today. Catch."

I automatically caught the card as he tossed it to me. Immediately I was paralyzed as information seemed to download directly into my mind. After several seconds, which lasted a short eternity, my mind snapped out of the apparent trance, and I dropped the card to the table as it caught fire. Staring at the ash in utter confusion, I realized I was breathing heavily. "What the.. where the hell...Jesus! Where'd you pick up that trick?"

"This is my realm, Michael. Within it, I can do nearly anything I want; even something as apparently complex as what just happened. I hope the time never comes when you need the information I just gave you, but I am very much afraid that it will come."

"But...why?"

"Because of Robert. You worry him, Michael. I daresay that he is actively afraid of you." Holding up one hand to forestall any questions, he continued. "You are completely loyal, but not specifically to him. From what you've told me today, your loyalties are, in order, to the idea of the Company, to Elle, to Noah, and then to Robert. That makes you a dynamite agent and a superb friend.

"Robert, however, doesn't want a dynamite agent. He wants, for lack of a better term, an attack dog whose first loyalty is always to him. He knows that to be something you will never be. Even worse, you are affecting his daughter.

"You've seen how he treats her. What he has accomplished is creating a Special who constantly seeks his approval, and can thus be reliably manipulated. And then you entered the picture. Her loyalties had always been Robert first, everything else second. Now, her loyalties are confused. Her loyalty to you, the man she loves, is nearly as strong as her loyalty to her father." Pausing quickly, he tapped his fingers on the table. "Did you know that she has been pregnant? Twice?"

"P...pregnant?" I had a horrible feeling about the answer, but asked the question anyway. "Who by?"

With a sad smile, he chuckled. "You, actually. Robert terminated the pregnancies, and Elle never even knew she'd been."

"Wait just one damn minute! Why? Don't get me wrong here, the last fucking thing I want is to have a child. Christ, I can't even conceive of being a father. With my job, my personality, and my issues, I would never condemn a child to be related to, let alone raised by, me. But why would Robert have such a problem with it? I would think the child of two powered parents would be considered an asset to the Company."

"Undoubtedly it would. And, if either Angela or Daniel knew that he had destroyed an embryo with your DNA in it, they would raise holy hell." Seeing the question in my eyes, he shook his head. "That's a conversation for another time, because the night is nearly over for you.

"The reason is Elle. Her loyalty is already in question. Give her a child, especially if you were the father, and any chance of his being her primary loyalty is shot.

"At the moment, he can secure her loyalty by getting you out of the picture. Hopefully he'll manage that by simply having you transferred. I know he and Daniel were discussing giving you a new partner for a situation that is heating up. If he can't manage it that way, he'll do it the other way. And that's why you need what I gave you. It's a way out. A hole card for you if needed."

With a quick smile, he stared into my eyes as the world around me began to drift into smoke. "Tell her you love her. Make certain she knows."

* * *

**March 21, 2003; Tokyo, Japan**

I stared in stunned horror at the ruin in front of me. Against the far wall, Elle had collapsed into her chair, eyes wide as saucers and face a ghastly white. The cleanup crew, in full hazmat gear, was removing the remains of Randall Thayer, the survivor of the assassination attempt on Kaito.

Until about ten minutes ago it had been a standard interrogation. Elle and I entertained ourselves by making Taylor scream, then I explained that things would only get worse if he made us work for honest answers. Then I asked some questions. When he answered honestly, we let him rest. When he grew stubborn and refused to answer, or started swearing and telling us where to shove our questions, I played with him a little longer. When he lied or, even worse, insulted Elle, I gave him to her for a while.

The interview had progressed fairly typically. Thayer grew steadily less reticent, and more honest, as we drew slowly nearer his personal absolute threshold for pain. Then I asked one last question.

Standing in front of him, I had looked at his bloody, battered and burnt body with contempt. "All right, Randall. Now that you've started talking, we've covered quite a bit. We know you weren't simply hired to kill Kaito. You're part of this whole thing. You have been, apparently, since before Bernhelm made his break. From what you've told us, you've been part of this since before Tripp had his little accident."

Stepping to the wall, I leaned against it and stared at him in silence for several minutes. "We know a lot between what you've supplied us, and info we've obtained from a few others. There are still a couple things I want cleared up. See, I'm tired of being a step behind Claus. I'd really like to get ahead of him; maybe even be waiting for him when he gets where he's going. And you're going to help with that.

"What I want to know, and what you will eventually tell me, is how to do that. So, what's Bernhelm's plan? Once he gets Kaito killed, what's his next step and how can I get ahead of him?"

His eyes widened in horror. "You... you don't know what you're asking. It's as much as my life's worth to tell you that."

Narrowing my eyes, I dropped my voice to a threatening whisper. "If you don't answer the damned question, the last few hours will become a pleasant memory. You haven't been hurt yet; not really. A few broken bones, a bunch of cuts, so pretty nasty burns, and a handful of contusions; painful, certainly, but nothing your body can't fix. From here on out, if you don't answer us, or don't give us the truth, we introduce you to new levels of pain as we really hurt you.

"Everyone in here knows you will eventually answer. They all do, because everybody has a breaking point. Save yourself the pain, and us the time. Answer the fucking question."

The fear-stench began coming from him in waves. His eyes darted around, seeking some escape, possibly a refuge. "I... I can't."

Shaking my head, I nodded to Elle. "Go ahead and give him a lesson."

She directed a bolt straight at him, powerful enough to burn, but not to burn quickly. She kept it on him as it slowly burned a hole through his shoulder, not turning it off until it had completed the burn-through and splashed off the wall.

He initially attempted to muffle his screams, but quickly gave up. As she worked her way through his shoulder, he practically tore his throat out as he gave voice to the most agonizing pain he had ever known. When she turned it off, he slumped against his shackles, his chest heaving with the effort of trying to breath, and his sobs choking through a throat torn by the strength of his scream.

After a few seconds, I walked around the table and lifted his head. "Answer the fucking question!"

"I...I can't."

Dropping his head, I moved the table out of the way. Grabbing him by his wounded shoulder, I dragged him over to the wall, ignoring his screams. Walking back in front of him, I spun into a side kick that planted the heel of my boot into the wounded shoulder. Smiling into his shrieking face, I ground the shoulder between my foot and the wall until it was shattered and torn.

Dropping my foot to the ground, I waited for his screams of agony to die down. Once they did so, I bent over and whispered in his ear, "This is only going to get worse, Thayer." Taking a deep breath, I raised my voice to a full-throated scream. "NOW ANSWER THE FUCKING QUESTION!!"

Lifting his head, panting through a scream-torn throat, he whispered, "I...can't... They'll... kill... me."

Shrugging, I slammed my fist into the side of his jaw, not quite hard enough to break the bone. Stepping back, I broke the leg off the table. "And we'll kill you if you don't talk." Flipping the bar into the air, I grabbed it like a short spear. "Looks like you're in trouble." With as much force as possible, I threw the bar at his uninjured shoulder.

When the bar tore through the skin, he winced. When it shattered the clavicle, the wince became a scream. When it shredded muscle and tendon, the scream morphed into a shriek. When it tore through the other side, slamming into the concrete with a shivering _thud_, ripping the wound even wider as the vibrations tore through the metal inside his body, the shriek went from pained to agonized.

Stepping back against the opposite wall, I glanced over at Elle. "Hit it. Low power."

With a grin, she sent a low powered blast onto the tip of the protruding bar. The sound that came from his throat was worse than any of his scream yet. A second later, he was panting for air as the jolt released its grip. Several minutes later, he opened his pain-filled eyes and stared across the room at me.

With a cold stare, I shrugged. "That was a warning shot. Talk, and it doesn't go any further. If you make us take it up a notch, each blast will be worse than the last, cooking you from the inside out.

"It's your call."

Swallowing several times, he licked chapped lips. "Y..y..you don't und...un..u...under..der..underst..stand..."

"I fully understand. I just don't give a fuck. If you talk, they'll kill you. That's your problem, and it's in the future. If you don't talk, though, Elle and I are right here."

Clamping his lips shut, he shook his head. Muttering in irritation, I glanced back at Elle. "Double it."

This time, his screams were nearly deafening as the electrical fire flooded his veins. Muscles clenched and tendons tightened. His eyeballs threatened to pop out of socket. In the midst of the screams, he could be heard begging for it to stop. Nodding at Elle, I raised an eyebrow. "Will you talk?"

"N..n...n...no..."

"Plus one, Elle."

Blood began to flow from where his arms and legs tried to rip free from his bonds. Blood vessels all over his body ruptured. I could smell the electricity destroying him a little at a time. Just as I gestured for Elle to stop, he began to spill the information I wanted. I smiled in cold satisfaction; a smile that lasted only a minute. That was when it happened.

A pressure filled the room, though only for a second. I sensed another presence, an unusual odor that I couldn't place, for just a second. As I cast about, trying to reacquire scent, I heard Elle gasp in horror. Glancing in her direction, I saw her eyes wide with horror. Following her gaze, I stood transfixed.

Randall Thayer sat against the wall, still bound to the chair and with the metal bar protruding from his shoulder. His eyes were filled with a horror unlike anything I had seen in my life. A glowing cloud, nearly transparent, surrounded him. A shrill sound rang in the air, harsh and filled with rage. Suddenly, the translucent cloud solidified and collapsed onto Thayer's body. The sounds the cloud tore from Thayer's throat were beyond anything the worst torture I'd ever used had brought. They were sounds describing an pain beyond words; an agony beyond human endurance.

They were sounds I had heard once before.

* * *

**Unknown Date; Unknown Location**

It's time to teach the new one what happens when you try to run. We've all seen it before, but Master has a new Dog.

I used to have a name. Didn't I? Mi...No. Keep away from that thought. The Master was clear when he...bought me? Whether I had a name before I came here or not is unimportant. Now I'm just another Dog.

How long has it been? A week? A month? A year? Longer?

I've lost count of the days. Of the nights. One much like the other. Nothing separating one from the next.

It had been long enough to learn escape was no option. Another, despite the warning Master gave all Dogs and Bitches, made the attempt.

That is why we are gathered here. Six Dogs. Ten Bitches. All dressed only in collars and chains. All marked by near starvation. Dogs additionally marked by the work Master forces on us, and by daily beatings. Bitches marked not only by the beatings, but by the much more personal attentions Master gives them.

Master was beating a young Dog even more savagely than usual. This is the one who slipped from his chains and tried to run. He was caught last night, and left hanging from special chains in the wall of this room until several minutes ago.

Now he lay on the floor, a beaten creature, barely alive and whimpering with pain. Grabbing a pair of thick gloves, Master opened the door to the incinerator. Throwing the Dog inside, he slammed the door closed and discarded the gloves. "Listen to his screams, my pets. If any of you try to escape, the same will happen to you."

As always, excited by the violence, he approached the line of Bitches. With a vile grin, he took the newest and forced his tongue into her mouth, and his finger between her legs. After several seconds, he disconnected her chain and threw her to the floor. Dropping his pants, he took her head and forced her to take him in her mouth. "Suck, Bitch. And no teeth!"

And the agonized screaming of the Dog he was burning alive filled the room.

* * *

**March 21, 2003; Tokyo, Japan**

The cleaning team was almost finished. Elle and I stood together in shaken horror as we watched them wash the last of what had been Randall Thayer off the chair.

Kaito had entered the interrogation room several minutes earlier and demanded an explanation. Elle came over as I explained what had happened. After listening to our explanation, he was silent. After several minutes, he said, "Come to my office in one hour."

After cleanup was finished, Elle and I both washed up. By the time we had done so, the specified time was up so we headed to his office on the campus. Once inside, he gestured for us to be seated. "I think I've found a partial answer. Have either of you heard of a Psionic Trap?"

Elle shook her head, but it sounded vaguely familiar to me. "Isn't that sort of what Maury could do?"

His lip curled in disgust at Parkman's name. "Not exactly. Parkman could trap you in a nightmare if he chose, but that's not the same as this. I've only heard of this, but have never before seen it.

"A Psionic Trap is a command entered into the mind. When certain criteria are met, in this case his willingness to answer certain questions, the trap is sprung."

Elle stared at him. "Could this 'Psionic Trap' explain how he died?"

"Not by itself. Somehow the person responsible for the Psionic Trap worked with another Special who could do...that...to Thayer. I'll have some people look into it. We should be able to get an idea what happened. Did you get anything out of him before it happened?"

Elle shook her head, but I nodded. "Not much, but he started talking. He said something about your death being important. He started saying something about Egypt, but I couldn't make out what he was talking about. He started dying then."

"So something about that is important?"

"Probably. Elle and I are staying here until the next attempt. Catching another assassin, alive, and getting every name he's ever used out of him, is our best chance of finding our next step."

After we left his office, Elle stopped me. "Why are we staying here? We could get to Egypt and beat this asshole!"

"Possibly. But, if we can find out who's in contact with who from here, we can be ahead of the game when we go there. Right now, all we know is someone is doing something in Egypt." Looking into her face, I carefully held back a laugh at her accusing stare. "Elle, I'm as eager to go as you are. I want to kill this asshole at least as much as you do. What I don't want is to get there and not have a fucking clue what to do."

Wrinkling her nose in disgust, she grumbled, "So we wait?"

"We wait." With a smile, I grabbed the back of her head and kissed her.

She tensed up for just a second, and then her eyes closed as her body melted against mine. After an eternity, she broke the kiss. Looking up at me in surprise, she breathed,  
What was that for?"

That question needed a full explanation or none at all. Laying my arm across her shoulders, I walked with her down the hall. "We'll talk about it later. Let's figure out how to catch this next guy."


	13. Chapter 13: Death Be A Lady

**April 3, 2003; Tokyo, Japan**

"Oh God...yes...Right th...God, yes...Jesus, Hav...GOD!!YesYesYesYES!!DON"T FUCKING STOP!!" The words bled together and became a wordless scream of passion. Her clawed hands sent a sharp jolt of electricity into my back as her nails carved into the flesh, releasing ten thin streams of blood. As her body tightened, her legs, tied around my hips, slammed me against her, thrusting me as deep inside as possible.

Three times I had brought her to this point, only to back off in an erotic dance that brought her passion to a fever pitch. This time I kept going. Within seconds her back arched under the force of a shattering orgasm. Almost simultaneously, I found myself briefly grateful that we had already collapsed onto the bed as the body-wracking explosion of my own release turned my bones to jelly.

As we lay collapsed together, my hand gently rubbing her bare back, Elle's breathing gradually deepened and steadied until I could tell she had dozed off. Closing my own eyes, determined to catch some sleep of my own, the thought that had plagued me for two weeks now found itself intruding again.

Randall Thayer. I had run across him before. The certainty began had grown stronger with each day from his death. Why did I know him?

With the question still unanswered, I drifted off.

* * *

**1997; Hartsdale, New York**

I'd been in the facility once before. Prepping for a mission just under a year ago. This time, an idiot guard stopped me just inside the entrance because I had set off the detectors in the door. By the time he reached me with the portable scanner, I had fished out my card. A small square of plastic, slightly larger than a business card, with only a single bar code printed on it.

"Come with me, sir?" Shaking my head silently, I flashed the card across the reader before he could stop me. His eyes widened slightly as the screen flashed recognition of the card and popped up my codename. They widened even further when my rank in the Company, as well as the names of my immediate superiors, scrolled up. My name alone didn't yet inspire the fear and respect that I desired, since I had only been mission qualified for a couple years, but the other names did.

The guard went from officious to obsequious faster than I could blink. Ignoring his offers of assistance, I shoved past him and entered the third elevator down the main hall. Once the doors closed and I was alone, I slid my key into place and turned it to the left, holding it in place long enough for the elevator to start moving before slipping it back into my pocket.

In the sub-basement, further down than the average person realized the building even went, I went through a series of halls until reaching Noah's office. He didn't even wait for me to come through the door. As soon as I reached the office, he came out to meet me. "Good. You're here. We can get this show on the road."

"Yeah, I'm here. Why?"

At the end of the hall, he opened a thick door and led me into a massive combat training room. Gesturing at a table along the near wall, he said, "Disarm. We'll talk while you unload."

Shrugging, I went to the table and began. "Why the fuck am I here?"

"What do you know about Agent Noonan?"

"I've heard the name, and some gossip, but that's about it. A good bit younger than I am, but with the Company longer. He has the same basic job I do, and the rumors indicate he may even be my equal. I'm not sure I buy that, but it's what they say."

There was an undercurrent of amusement in Noah's voice that I couldn't quite place. "You've never met Noonan?" Cleaning his glasses, he smiled. "What makes you so certain you're the better agent?"

"What else could I think? I've received the best training possible. When combined with my natural abilities, that training has made me damn near the most dangerous man to ever walk the earth." With a quick grin, I glanced back at him. "There's no way in hell that a man in this Company compares to me." Dropping the last of my weapons to the table, I turned to face him squarely. "I assume this Noonan character has something to do with why I'm here?"

"You could say that." Pulling out a radio as he walked over to me, he said, "Noonan? It's Bennet. Meet me in Combat Training."

"He's here?"

"Based here, actually. Similar to the way you're stationed in LA." Glancing at the table, he shook his head in amazement. "How the hell do you carry all this?" What he referred to as 'this' was what I termed my 'walking around' arsenal: a brace of forty-fives, with spare mags, three different combat knives, one of them complete with a spiked fist-guard, a half-dozen short but decidedly lethal throwing knives, a wire garrote, and my combat claws.

Closing my eyes briefly, I tried to place an unpleasant scent that had been growing in the room. "I didn't see the point in coming heavily armed. I left a couple more guns, several more blades, and my kukris back on the jet."

Before he could come up with a reply the door burst open, slamming into the wall. "Okay! I'm here! This had better be worth my time!"

Spinning around, I was more shocked by the girl's appearance than by the impudent question. Black combat boots, relatively tight black camo pants, and an even tighter black tank that bared her midriff, revealing a small belly ring, and with a plunging neckline. The outfit revealed a body that seemed custom-ordered for sin. A quick look told me she was probably a hellion in bed, and I immediately felt a familiar ache as my groin responded to the thought. The lust died almost before it was realized as I took an automatic sample of her scent.

Death. Not the reek of the Charnel house. Not the sickening miasma of decomposing corpses. Not even the acidic, coppery, tang of blood flowing from severed arteries. But clearly and unmistakably the scent of death.

"Havoc? Meet Sarah Noonan." Bennet's voice was dripping with barely concealed amusement.

Blinking in shock behind my shades, I stared at her. I couldn't keep the disbelief out of my voice. "This? Fucking goth Barbie is supposed to be the dangerous Agent Noonan? The one who's supposedly my equal?"

Her eyes narrowed in contempt. "Well, what the fuck do you know? The Matrix reject talks like a man." I felt my body tremble as she leaned in whispering in my ear. "Are you done fucking me in your mind yet? Or do you want some more time?" She licked the side of my face.

Raising an eyebrow, I mentally revised my opinion. Whatever else, she was quick. Doubtless, nearly every other man she met would be planning a way to get in her pants, but, "Sorry. The Lady Death thing doesn't-"

"Havoc! Sarah! Can it!" Noah's whip-crack order cut us both off. In the sudden silence, he stepped between us. "That's enough of this crap, you two. Sarah? Havoc can kill you without breaking a sweat. Havoc? Sarah can kill you without even blinking.

"Now, that's out of the way." Looking into both of our faces, he read the expressions perfectly. I knew damn well I could take Noonan, if it became necessary, without her having a chance to even think about defending herself. For some reason, she exuded a cold arrogance that suggested she believed herself fully capable of handling me if I attacked. "For Christ's sake, you two. You'll have a chance to find out the truth about each other in a few minutes.

"You've both trained under and against the best the Company has to offer. The Kill Squad would count itself blessed to have agents with half your training. For several reasons the Company has decided to compare the two of you in the quickest way possible- combat practice."

* * *

**April 4, 2003; Tokyo, Japan**

My eyes snapped open. Something about the memory was important. The guard? Just another officious asshole who tried to get in my way. Closing my eyes, I replayed the half-remembered face slowly. Suddenly it clicked.

Jerking upright in amazement, I almost threw Elle onto the floor. Rubbing her eyes, she yawned and glared at me. "What the fuck's the big idea?"

Absently, I grabbed her in my arm and stroked her back. "Sorry, babe." Ignoring her suddenly stiff body, I started to get up.

"Where the hell do you think you're going?"

"I need to talk to Kaito." Reaching down, I pulled on my shorts. "I think I might have just stumbled on a way to move this investigation forward."

"Umm... Hav? You might wanna look at the clock first. It's not even 3 in the morning yet."

Glancing at the clock, I swore. "Damn it. I need to talk to him."

For some reason, she was extremely quiet. When I glanced over at the bed in confusion, she was staring at me with an oddly soft look in her eyes. "What...what did you call me?"

As she unfolded from the bed and walked over to me, I thought back. "Babe?"

Caressing my chest, she breathed, "You never use names like that with me. I'm always Elle to you, or Girl if I've pissed you off."

I was having trouble thinking. "I'm...uh...sorry?"

She lightly slapped me, powered with a small jolt of electricity. "Don't you dare apologize, you son of a bitch." Smiling up at me, she began to trace circles on my stomach with her finger. "You can't talk to Kaito for a few hours, right?"

She had me off-balance, and seemed to be enjoying it. "Umm...right."

"And are you really very tired right now?"

If I had been before, I was fully awake now. "Not really."

Grabbing a part of my anatomy that displayed just how awake I suddenly was, she led me to the bed. "Good." Pulling me down with her, she breathed, "I think we're ready for another round."

* * *

**1997; Hartsdale, New York**

"Combat practice?" Noonan and I simultaneously exploded at the idea.

"Christ, Noah, I'll kill her. Even if she has half the skill you claim, she's still not a match for me; and you damn well know it."

Before he could respond, her voice, filled with a dangerously frozen tone, came from nearby. "Only if you can touch me, dick head." Less than a second later I found myself flying over the table and slamming into the wall, pinned in place by the force of her mind.

"Sarah! Drop him!" Once again, Noah's voice sliced through the the tension. After she'd released me, he keyed his radio and walked over to me, waving Noonan over as well. "Look, I know you're both Alpha personalities, but can you cut the shit for five minutes?

Turning his eyes to me, he grinned. "As you just found out, one of Sarah's gifts is a fairly powerful dose of telekinesis." Turning to face Sarah, he shrugged. "And, if you spent a little more time in observation, you'd have realized that I probably just saved your life." Over his shoulder, "Havoc?"

With a tight grin, I let the throwing knife, grabbed on my flight over the table, slide down between my fingers. Noah hadn't stopped speaking. "Now, if the two of you are finally finished for a few minutes, we can get on with this." Taking a deep breath, he was interrupted by the door's quiet opening.

I recognized the familiar scent immediately. The Haitian had put in an appearance. Noah muttered, "Thank God," before fixing both Noonan and myself with a penetrating stare. "This is how I plan on keeping you two from killing each other. It's going to be skill against skill. No powers."

Suddenly, I felt the familiar blindness and deafness, and the peculiar weakening, that was a result of the Haitian stripping me of my abilities. Glancing at Noonan, I couldn't tell if she felt a similar weakening or not. I could, however, see what other men saw in her. Deprived of that unpleasant signature scent, she suddenly was much more of everything that made a man feel like a man.

"Now, if you two will follow me, we'll get on with this" Leading us to the other side of the room, he pointed to a table, a couple chests, and a pair of large practice mats. "The chests contain gloves for hand combat, pugil sticks, and practice kukris. Havoc? You get first choice."

I threw a speculative glance at Noonan, who simply stared at me coldly out of her heavily shadowed eyes. "For Christ's sake, hurry up. I've got exams coming up."

Rolling my eyes, I pulled out the pugil stick and walked to the mat. As she walked over to face me, I took in the entire goth look she had gone for, complete with black mascara and lipstick, and smiled tauntingly. "Don't worry, Noonan. You'll be back with your vampire vibrator soon enough."

Off to the side, I heard Noah mutter, "Oh, shit," and then he blew the whistle.

My, admittedly sketchy, plan had been to smash her in the gut and then the back of the head. Quick, relatively painless, and minimal risk of actually injuring her. I wasn't expecting my first thrust to be slammed aside, throwing me off balance. That was followed by a smashing blow to my stomach, causing me to double over, gasping for air.

From there it got worse. A quick blow to my face, damn near breaking my nose, shot me upright, followed by a blow that caused an explosion of pain in my groin, driving to my knees. Almost before I landed, a hammer-blow landed on the back of my skull, driving me face-first to the ground, nearly unconscious.

Through a blur of pain, I felt the pressure as she dropped one knee into my back and bent down. Her lips brushed my ear as she whispered, "Tag. You're it," and then lightly bit the lobe before rolling to her feet.

Less than three minutes later, I was on my feet and facing her again, furious at letting myself get caught off guard. Then she cocked an eyebrow and asked, "Why in such a hurry to get beat down again?"

Instead of replying, I flashed a grin and listened for Noah's whistle. When it came, I began the same attack I'd used in the first one. When she slammed it aside, I used the force to spin around and drop to my knees. She had already begun the blow to where my stomach should have been, and I felt the wind from it as she narrowly missed my head.

As I fell to my knees, I reversed my grip on the pugil stick, sliding it under my left arm. I smashed as hard as possible back and up, taking her in the stomach. Even as she began to bend from the blow, gasping for air, I swung a looping blow as I stood and turned. The blow landed on the back of her head, smashing her to the ground.

Even as she landed and rolled, dazed from the blow, I landed beside her, slamming the stick across her throat with just enough force to make her choke and gasp for air. When her face started to turn red, I bent down and pressed my lips against her ear. "Tag. You're dead." In a deliberately insulting gesture, I kissed her cheek before releasing her.

From my feet, I watched as she regained her breath and rolled slowly to her feet. Nodding quickly and with a certain grudging respect as she took up her weapon and turned to face me. Lowering my stick, I said, "Let's take a breather. Five minutes." Her eyes narrowed and then softened for just a second. We both sat where we were.

Five minutes later, we were facing each other on the mat. This bout would be the proof. Noah knew it. Noonan knew it. I knew it. For the first round, I had been too cocky. She punished me for that. In the second, she had been the arrogant one, and I had been the instructor. But this round? Neither of us had any illusions. No arrogance would come into play with this round. And Noah sounded the beginning.

Blow followed blow, strike followed strike. The dance I had mastered in my early training returned with every second. And the dance continued. Every blow met with a block. Every block followed by a counterattack. Every counterattack parried. And the fight went on.

Until a single mistake. Knocking her blow aside, I used a shade too much force. It threw my stick out of position. She used the added force to swing her stick around in a sweeping motion, slamming into my knees and knocking me onto my back. The next second, the end of her weapon slammed into the ground immediately beside my head, deliberately missing me by less than an inch. In an irritated gesture of defeat, I tossed mine to the side and nodded my head.

Accepting her help standing back up, I realized too late that it wasn't entirely honest aid. When our arms brought us within whispering distance, she said, "So, did you like getting your ass handed to you by a teenage girl? Am I getting you hard yet?"

Biting back the instinctive response, I turned with her to face Noah. Smiling broadly as he watched us gasping for breath after the whirlwind battle, he nodded to the Haitian. Immediately, I felt the return of my gifts. "Excellent. You're both dismissed for half an hour. Then it's Sarah's turn to choose."

As we walked out the door, Noonan flashed a taunting grin, and provocatively pressed up against me just before she sauntered out the door.

* * *

**April 4, 2003; Tokyo, Japan**

Opening my eyes, I glanced back at the clock. A little past 8. Good enough. Glancing down, I realized Elle was still asleep where she had collapsed after our last round.

Gently rolling her off me, I picked up the phone and called Kaito's secretary. "It's Michael. I need to speak with him as soon as possible."

"He has a meeting now, I'm afraid. The earliest I can get you in to see him is a quarter after 1."

Rolling my eyes, I held back the irritation. "That should be fine."

Once the meeting was scheduled, I grabbed fresh clothing and stumbled into the shower. Several minutes later, I felt Elle come in behind me. "So?"

Turning around, I traced my fingers down her throat. "So? What?"

Shivering under my caress, she licked her lips. "I heard part of your call. When are we meeting with Kaito."

Grinning, I moved my hands down and began to caress her breasts, lightly pinching her hardening nipples, as her hand began to stroke my thigh. "Umm... quarter after 1."

Her hand moved up, continuing its caressing movement as she pressed against me. "What are we talking to him about."

With a grin, I let one hand wander down, and play with her for a few seconds before sliding a finger into place. Her sudden gasp came just before I used the other hand to draw her into a kiss. Breaking it off, I whispered into her ear, "Can we talk about that later?"

Her reaction as I reached up and pulled off the shower head, flipping it to the massage setting before carefully pinning her against the wall, indicated she was more than okay with that idea.

* * *

**1997; Hartsdale, New York**

Just under thirty minutes later I walked back in, only to find I was the last one to return. The Haitian was seated, apparently asleep, off to one side, while Noah and Noonan were quietly discussing something near the mats.

When I walked in, Noonan looked up, and flashed a wicked grin. Unfolding from the chair, she watched as I approached, "Couldn't wait to get embarrassed again?"

Leaning against the wall, I quirked an eyebrow. "Have you decided how I get to kick your ass this time?"

Narrowing her cold eyes in irritation, she sneered at me. "Last I checked, you took it up the ass. Twice. But, if you're really in such a hurry to get fucked again..."

Before the words had even left her mouth, both chests were ripped open and the two sets of kukri blades were hurtling through the air. One set landed in her outstretched palms, but the other set picked up speed and headed toward my face. Keeping a deliberately calm expression, I watched the blades approach. If she wanted to play games, I was more than willing to raise the stakes.

At the last second, I slashed my hands out to grab the handles even as I fell into a forward roll. Shifting my grip as the roll continued, I launched into a twisting leap that carried me just over Noonan's head. Less than a second later, I held her in an unbreakable grip. One practice blade was reverse along my forearm, pressing against her throat. The tip of the other blade was pressed against the base of her skull. For just a second I listened to her gasping for air around the grip, and then I put my mouth just beside her ear. "Don't fuck with me, bitch. I don't like it. Try that again, and I promise that it won't fucking matter that you're with the Company. Got it?"

She didn't reply. She could barely breathe. Suddenly, the air seemed to die down, and there was a whisper of scent carried on a non-existent breeze. Moving my head aside to try and catch it, I loosened my grip slightly. Suddenly both arms were thrown out to the side, releasing her, and I was thrown into the wall again.

A keening seemed to fill the air, nearly deafening me. The air, no longer dead, roared around me. My veins felt like they were on fire. My heart began to pound, and my head to throb. My lungs labored to find oxygen they seemed unable to find.

Forcing open my eyes, I stared in horror across the room. Sarah stood alone, hair floating around her face, eyes suddenly jet black, filled with fury. The keening came not from some invisible source, but from her open mouth. This, whatever was happening, was her doing.

Just when it seemed I could take no more, that I was going to die, it abruptly stopped. The fire in my veins became blood, my heart resumed its normal pace, my head ached, but no longer throbbed, and my lungs began to suck in air like a greedy bellows. The force holding me against the wall, and I collapsed to the floor.

After several seconds, I was able to climb back to my feet. "What. The. FUCK?"

Noonan stood, Noah resting one hand on her shoulder, across the room from me. "Who's the bitch now?" Walking over to me, she took my shirt in one hand, and dragged me down until she could whisper in my ear. "Next time? I won't fucking stop. Got it?" Releasing me, she stalked back over to the mats.

Bending down, never taking my eyes off her, I picked up the kukris from where they had fallen. Noah met me as I took my position opposite her. "Have you recovered?" When I told him I was, he nodded over at the Haitian, who stripped our abilities. "Sarah's unique, at least as far as I've been able to determine. She has an ability she's termed Transcendental Termination; basically, if she wants you dead, you die. Usually painfully." Stepping off the mats, he sat down near the Haitian. "Ready?" When we nodded he blew the whistle.

Unlike the pugil stick, the kukri can be an elegant weapon. It's a weapon I'd used extensively. Because of that, I knew what I was capable of. Within seconds, I learned what she was capable of. Perhaps not as good as me, but definitely capable. As with the final bout of sticks, the dance lasted for several minutes. Perhaps as long as half an hour.

I almost missed the opening when it came. It was a single mistake. A block with one blade that was just an ounce harder than necessary, and a slashing thrust with the other, extended perhaps a tenth of an inch too far. Together, it left her out of position. Before she had a chance to react, I pinned the thrusting arm under my own, stepping in and under the blocking arm.

Straightening, I lifted her into the air and slammed her onto her back. By the time a full second had passed, I had twisted the arm until she painfully forced to drop the blade. One knee was pinning the free arm, the other was pinning her body to the ground. One practice blade was pointing at the side of her neck, the other had slapped into her exposed stomach hard enough to raise a red mark. "You're good, Noonan. Very good. But you're still dead."

When Noah signaled the end of the bout, I released her arm and rolled to my feet. A few seconds later she had done the same. After less than a minutes she was back in her ready stance. Shaking my head, I sank into my own and grinned. Just as Noah whistled to open the match, she blew me a kiss.

And then we were at it, as furiously as before. Thrust and parry. Slash and stab and block. Ten minutes. Twenty. Half an hour. The mistake, when it came, was tiny. Almost infinitesimal. A block that had less than an ounce too much force. A thrust that extended a fraction of a fraction of an inch too far.

Before I knew what happened, she had used my own momentum against me. I slammed onto my back hard enough to lose my wind. By the time my eyes cleared, she had my arms painfully tied with her legs, and was straddling my chest, staring at me out of her frozen eyes. For the first time I realized, under the black eyeshadow, and blacker mascara, she had truly beautiful, if chillingly dead, dark eyes. Her blades were pressing in on both sides of my throat, partially blocking the flow through the carotids.

A broad grin briefly illuminated her face. "When I'm good, I'm very good." Noah whistled the end of the match, and she released my arms.

Instead of getting up, she slid down until our hips were pressing together. With our faces less than an inch apart, our lips nearly touching, she dropped her voice to a throaty, seductive, whisper. "But when I'm bad?" Darting out her tongue, she ran it over my lips. "I'm better."

Before I could react, she laughed and stood up, strolling away from me with a deliberately provocative gait. Less than a minute later, we were once again in position and waiting for Noah to turn us loose.

When he did, we went at it every bit as furiously as before, but without the violent edge. The pugil stick match up had destroyed our arrogance. The first two kukri bouts had done the same for the almost bitter animosity.

Now? There was no more jockeying for position. We were, both of us, at the top of the food chain. We recognized no betters, but had just found a possible equal. We may never become friends, bu a no-longer grudging respect had replaced the animosity.

But that didn't mean we fought for any reason other than to win. We passed the half-hour mark without slowing. By forty-five minutes, both sets of practice blades had been badly battered. It wasn't until we had been fighting for just over an hour that it happened.

I finally managed to back her against the wall. One blade pressed against the hollow of her throat, and the other created a dent in the upper swell of her left breast. Panting for air, I asked, "Yield?"

Instead of answering, she darted her glance downward for just a second, and then met my eyes with a vicious, even sadistic, grin. Risking a quick look down, I saw the her first blade was pointed unerringly at my heart. And her second? That was the one lightly pressing through the fabric of my jeans, resting gently against my testicles. Raising my eyes, I caught a taunting challenge in her eyes. I couldn't stop myself.

I collapsed to the ground in helpless laughter.

* * *

**April 4, 2003; Tokyo, Japan**

By a quarter to 1, we were seated outside his office, waiting for the secretary to tell us he was ready. The shower had lasted considerably longer than expected, and very little of it had been involved in getting clean. With a sly grin, I remembered her gasp, followed minutes later by a scream of release, as the pulse from the shower head massaged her clit. I'd have to remember that trick.

The intercom sounded, and the secretary waved us in. Kaito was seated behind his massive desk, his back to the bullet-resistant windows displaying most of Tokyo. "What is it?"

"It's common practice for Kill Squad trainees and injured to work guard detail, isn't it?"

"Of course."

"How long has that been going on?"

Thinking about it for a minute, Kaito frowned. "Since their inception. What is the point of this?"

"Because I think I know how to find out who Thayer was working with, and who might be next to come after you."

"Indeed?"

Sitting next to Elle, I shrugged. "Back in ninety-seven, I was at Hartsdale. It took me until last night to remember that Thayer was on door duty there. He didn't move injured, so I assume he was a trainee."

"And, if you can track down Thayer's old team, you think you'll find some connections?" Elle spoke up from beside me.

Shrugging, I glanced over at her. "That's the plan anyway. At the least it gives us a place to start." Turning my eyes to face Kaito again, I asked, "Can you get us a look at his complete file?"

After several seconds thought, he nodded. "It will take some time. Most probably, the file will not be complete until tomorrow. Be in my office at this time tomorrow, and the file will be waiting." Suddenly, a smile flashed across his normally stern face. "You can spend the rest of the day making my security team feel inadequate. If your stay here accomplishes nothing else, I will have the best security possible within the Organization." His face stilled again, and he nodded as a knock came on the door. "Now, I have another meeting."

* * *

**1997; Hartsdale, New York**

Maybe three hours later we had gathered in the training room again. What Noah, Sarah and the Haitian had done, I neither knew nor particularly cared. I had relaxed with a couple beers and a bowl of _du riz cole_, a dish that had strong connections to a past I couldn't remember, while I checked my messages. There were a couple missions coming up that looked promising, and Bob had lined up a new partner he wanted me to take for a test drive.

With a grin, Noah led us back to the mat, accompanied by the now familiar sense of weakening as the Haitian turned on his null field. Opening the chests, he tossed a pair of gloves to each of us. "One round only. Somehow I think that'll be enough."

After checking the gloves almost perfunctorily, he stepped back. By the time he was off the mats, we were both in our battle-ready positions. When he sounded the opening of the match, we began.

We had both been trained by the masters. We had been beaten, broken, battered and bloodied by the best. We had been stripped of our powers, and then stripped of our pride. We had both been under the iron hand that was training under Noah Bennet. But we had survived. Not only that, we had thrived. We had learned the art from the masters, and we had surpassed them.

And that supremacy was on display. Movement was rigidly controlled. In a battle where the line between victory and death was measured at a micro scale, it needed to be. Feet flashed, fingers flickered, straight-edged palms knifed out. Blows landed and blood was drawn. Victory was not to be achieved without pain.

There were none of the fancy moves favored by Hollywood. Flips and leaps were wasted movement. Rolls were used only when a crippling blow could be avoided in no other way. As the forty minute mark passed, we were bleeding from countless shallow wounds, but neither of us had been able to land a telling blow.

When the opening came, it was due to an even lesser mistake than during the kukri battle. A single hand less than a tithe of a fraction of an inch out of position. Nobody else would even have noticed it, let alone been able to take advantage of it. To me? It was a wide open door.

I slipped the heel of my palm through the opening, slamming it into her chest hard enough to make her gasp. It was designed to do no more than penetrate her block, to throw her off rhythm. That blow was followed by a slashing kick to the side of her knee. Not hard enough to break it, but hard enough to make it buckle. I followed that by another blast to her chest, dropping her to the ground. The entire pattern took less than a second.

That series was always followed by a crushing blow to the larynx, leaving the victim to suffocate. Sarah knew it as well as I did. There was no fear in her eyes, but there was the knowledge that she could die if I screwed up. As I moved in with the final strike, I thought I surprised a recognition of death in her eyes, possibly even a quiet hope. I stopped the blow just as the web between my thumb and forefinger contacted the flesh of her throat..

When Noah ended the bout, I flashed a quick grin and helped her up. The tightness in her face told me the fury she was feeling at the loss. This was a girl, a woman, who hated making mistakes. Despite the playful, almost kittenish, persona she displayed, she kept herself even more rigidly controlled than I did.

I thought about it when Noah dismissed us. Sarah left immediately, stopping only long enough to throw me a last challenging glare before stalking out the door. I stared after her for several seconds before heading to the table and putting myself together again.

Noah came over. "Your opinion?"

Checking the loads in my pistols, I glanced back at the door. "Lethal. Absolutely lethal." Slamming the pistols home, I shrugged into my coat and turned to face him. "She's the only person I've ever met I'm not certain I could beat." When he raised his eyebrow, I slid my glasses into place, and headed out the door, stopping just before I opened it. Looking over my shoulder, I gave him a half shrug. "The truth is, on another night she'd be the one who walked out a winner."

* * *

**April 4, 2003; Tokyo, Japan**

Between Elle and myself, the security team was run ragged by the end of the day. As the teams before them, this group thought they knew how to stop an aggressor from getting near Kaito. Unfortunately for their pride, the two of us had been getting past better teams longer than most of them had been on the job.

As before, after about the third time one of us 'killed' the target without the team even knowing we were around, they began to take us seriously. By the end of the day, nearly 10 that evening, they were capable of guarding Kaito against almost any normal threat. Against people like me, however, they would never be more than an inconvenience.

It wasn't until we were alone that Elle brought up my comment from earlier. "I let you off earlier, Hav. But you never told me why you called me that."

The look in her eyes gave me a good idea of how the mouse feels when cornered by the cat. Nowhere to go and nowhere to hide.

* * *

_**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**_

Sarah Noonan is the central character in my friend and fellow-writer **OnyxRiver**'s _Heroes_-based fanfic, **Burning The Picket Fence**.  
The sections with Agent Noonan were written with her full permission and cooperation.  
I strongly urge any of those who read and enjoy my work, especially **Let Slip The Dogs Of War** to give her stories a shot as well.


	14. Chapter 14: Witchy Woman

**April 4, 2003; Tokyo, Japan**

"Well, Hav? I'm waiting."

It had been maybe five minutes, certainly no more than ten, since she had originally asked the question, and my mind was racing. Despite the unspoken, virtually unconsidered, hope, she had not forgotten my slip of the tongue earlier. Charles had always given good advice, so I opened my mouth to tell the truth.

Nothing came out.

I had apparently spent so long denying the truth, even from myself, that it couldn't just come out on demand. Closing my mouth, I tried to pin down my scurrying thoughts. If I could rein in my stubbornly rebellious mind, maybe I could find the words. In order to buy time, I went to the bed and began stripping off my weapons.

As I was pulling my weapons bags from under the bed, a shrill alarm began to sound. Glancing up in brief confusion, I watched Elle's stance change from challenging and curious to alarmed. Turning, she grabbed the radio. "This is Bishop. What the fuck is going on out there?"

"Team Six just went off-air. They were on perimeter detail."

"Shit! We'll meet you outside." Dropping the radio, she threw a challenging look at me as she pulled her kit out of the closet. "We'll finish our little chat later."

Throwing her a headset from my weapons roll, I shrugged. "Whatever." Sliding last of my weapons into place, I grinned. "Right now, we get to show the security assholes how to do their job." Puling one of the kukris out from under my trench, I smiled. "Fuck 'em up and hang 'em out."

In the hall we sprinted to the elevators, making it just in time for the power to be cut. Swearing under my breath, I turned and led Elle back to the emergency stairs while the emergency lights kicked on. Slamming open the door, I caught the scent of at least a dozen strangers. Turning my head as Elle came up beside me, I knew the vicious grin made me look like a maniac. "Play time."

"How many?"

"At east a dozen, probably a few more. Two, maybe three flights up."

After a moment's though, she smiled. "You can have that batch. If they're putting that many in a group, they have too many for comfort around. I'll take another set up. We'll meet at Kaito's office."

I nodded and started into the stairway, but stopped when I felt her hand on my arm. "Not so fast, Hav." She laughed at the confused look on my face. Grabbing the back of my neck, she pulled me down until she could whisper in my ear. "We'll finish our chat when we get back." Then she pulled me into deep, passionate, kiss. As her tongue danced with mine, her hand slid inside my pants and began to stroke. After several seconds, she broke the kiss with a gentle zap. "And this?" With a throaty laugh, she whispered into my ear as she withdrew her hand after a light squeeze. "Let's just say, I don't plan on either of us getting any sleep tonight."

With that she nipped my ear and vanished, laughing, down the hall. Shaking my head, I licked my lips and loped up the steps, grinning in anticipation. In spite of their night-vision equipment, I easily located them before they could see me. Blending into the shadows of the doorway, I listened in on their conversation.

"...Team Three going after Secondary Target..."

"...Target Prime...Office..."

"...Orders..."

There were fifteen targets. Shrugging inwardly, I switched my grip on the kukris and waited. When they were where I wanted, I attacked. Ten seconds later, they were dead or dying.

The first two lost their heads before anybody knew I existed. From there it got messy. Four of the bodies were still alive, but trying in vain to keep their internal organs internal. One body had been split from crotch to sternum, while an inaccurate slice had managed to remove another's head from the eyes up. The one I was using to clean my blades had been carved almost in half.

Wiping the blood out of my face, I adjusted my shades and cast about. These were the only ones in the stairwell. Putting the blades away, I loped up the stairs. Three flights away, I paused by the door. There were strangers on this floor. After a second's thought, I dipped my left inside my pocket and pulled out three of the throwing knives. With the other hand, I pulled out one of my pistols.

Kicking open the door, I rolled through and pressed against the wall. They were a ways away, around the distant corner. Thinking quickly, I smiled. A cold, calculating smile filled with a special kind of blood lust. Changing my mind, I put the pistol and knives away. I could play with them later.

Sprinting down the hall, I reached the corner silently in less than a minute. Dipping into a pouch at my waist, I pulled out a flechette grenade. With a wicked smile, I peeked around the corner just long enough to gauge my throw. Then I tossed it and ducked to the side.

The explosion was suitably quiet. It wasn't intended to be an explosive device. However, the screams of agony that filled the hall immediately after were everything I'd hoped for. Getting to my feet, I pulled out the throwing knives again, and slipped around the corner.

The men and women in this particular group were almost entirely dead. The flechettes had done their job beautifully. Working my way through the carnage, I paused long enough to watch in amusement as the final victim, a young man with his throat nearly torn out by the miniature missiles, gasped a last ragged breath.

"Hav? Where the fuck are you?" Elle's voice, tense and breathless, came over the headset.

Pressing against the wall, I keyed my mike. "Fourth. Just went through a second collection. You?"

"Eighth. Met up with a security team. We've only hit one pocket. You seen a team yet?"

"Still running solo. First group was talking about someone they called Target Prime. That's gotta be Kaito. Is there a team with him?"

"He's got one, we're headed up there now."

A sound ahead caught my attention. Someone was coming down the stairway at the end of the hall. "Shit. Listen, I'm about to have company. I'll join up at Kaito's office." Pulling the trio of throwing knives out with one hand, and my pistol with the other, I flickered an evil grin. "And, sweet tits? Watch out for that cute little ass of yours. I plan on making you scream tonight."

A wicked giggle came over the line. "Don't worry. Found something new that's supposed to drive you crazy. And you already know what I can do with my tongue."

With a grin, I felt myself stiffening in anticipation. Blood, violence, death, and sex with one of the hottest, wildest, and horniest women on the planet? Life was good.

With a quiet click, the door from the stairwell opened just as I ducked around the corner. Holding myself ready, I waited. Several minutes later, I heard the gasps in reaction to the corpses littering their path. Stepping around the corner, I hurled the blades in an underhand cast and lifted my pistol.

Throat. Chin. Eye. Each blade found a lethal entry point in a separate body. Even as I dropped my empty hand to take up a second pistol, the first one began to claim victims. Less than ten seconds later, there was another pile of corpses. Wincing, I glanced down. A bullet had creased my ribs, and another had just barely missed the carotid artery.

Suddenly I was overwhelmed by a familiar heat, burning away almost all thought. My legs immediately began to tremble with the power of the feeling, and I was suddenly sporting an almost painful erection. Hearing my suddenly labored breathing with something resembling disbelief, I couldn't believe what was happening. I was horny as hell. Even at her naughtiest, Elle had never gotten me quite this rabid. What the fuck was going on?

Footsteps behind made me spin around. Over the barrels, I sighted another half dozen men. Leading them was one of the most singularly stunning women I'd ever seen. Raven hair cascaded over slender shoulders. A nearly transparent top barely contained a perfect set of breasts. Shapely legs extended from a set of red stilettos and vanished into a loose miniskirt that barely fell to mid-thigh.

The single thought burning in my brain was how badly I wanted to nail her. The expression in her almond shaped eyes told me she knew precisely the effect she had on me. As she sauntered toward me, she shook her head in amusement. "Poor boy. Always confusing your pistols with your penis."

Even her voice was beautiful. And the sound of it upped the heat on my horny. She raised one delicate hand and brushed my cheek. Suddenly my loins were on fire, and the only thought in my mind was to take her right the fuck now. Grabbing her hair in one hand, I smashed our mouths together, using the other to reach under her skirt.

Mouth tightening on mine, she dropped her hands and undid my pants. Letting them drop to the ground, she began to stroke my throbbing erection. Dropping my hands, I lifted her legs and felt them wrap around me as I pinned her against the wall. Hiking her skirt, I slammed into her with a force born of pure, animal, lust. Her tongue danced inside my mouth, writhing with mine in a sinuous eroticism.

Her hands clawed into my back, with a force I could feel even through my coat and shirt. Her thighs greedily clamped onto my hips. She matched me thrust for thrust, egging my passion to new heights. She brought my head down to the breasts I had just revealed, moaning with pleasure as I greedily licked and nibbled, bringing the nipples to firmness. She brought her lips down to the back of my neck, grazing there as I grazed at her breasts.

Finally, I threw my head back to unleash a roar of primal passion, thrusting violently into her, deeper and harder than ever before. The power of my release rocked my body. I could feel the clenching and unclenching in every fiber of my being. Holding her against the wall as my fevered panting began to slow, I felt someone else touch the back of my neck.

The touch brought with it a strange lassitude. As she unclasped her legs from my waist and stood on her own, I fell to my knees, and then onto my back. As sudden exhaustion turned to sleep, I heard her call over her radio. "It's Yua...Target Prime acquired...of course it worked...fucked him blind...Hotaka took him down..."

* * *

**April 6, 2003; Chiba, Japan**

"Hello, lover." The world swam slowly into focus. I was lying naked on a bed in what was clearly a woman's room. As consciousness returned, a weaker form of the lust I remembered began to overcome me. Raising one delicate brow, she ran her hand down my chest until she reached my erection. "I see you're ready for round two."

Standing up, she stripped, my need for her growing by the second. Pausing for a second, she tapped her fingers against her lips. "Do be a little careful this time, lover boy. You almost tore me apart the other day."

Lashing out a hand, I grabbed her arm and dragged her over. I was in almost the shape I remembered being in earlier. Obligingly sitting on the edge of the bed, she grinned. Shaking my hand off her arm, she began to stroke my chest again. Each touch, each caress, stoked the fires building inside until I could barely think. Swinging one of her long legs over so she was straddling my chest, she began to inch forward. "Not so fast, baby. The first taste was free." Gasping as she thrust herself onto my face, she said, "If you want more, it costs." Her breath began to come in ragged gasps as my tongue and fingers, in a desperate fury, began to explore, caress and massage.

Hours later, after I had managed to fill the animal lust that had taken control, I closed my eyes and cleared my throat. "How long?"

Running her finger down my chest again, she laughed. "How long, what?"

Shuddering under her hand, I breathed, "How long was I under? I'm not a complete idiot, girl. Someone knocked my ass out after you rocked my world. I'd guess that wasn't yesterday."

Tossing her hair back, she nibbled at my ear. "Day before, actually. We had to keep you under while we transported you, and I spent the bulk of yesterday and today fighting like hell to get you in my quarters."

Reaching out a hand to begin caressing her breast, feeling the fires building yet again, I licked suddenly dry lips. A stray thought crossed my mind. "What about Kaito?"

She looked up from where she had been tracing my belly button with her tongue. "What about him?"

She went back to her exploration. Thought was rapidly becoming difficult as a raging desire continued to build. "I heard...Target Prime...assumed...was him..."

There were several seconds of silence, broken only by my quickening breath, as her lips caressed my shaft, with her tongue making frequent stroking forays over my head. Finally, she looked up again. "Target Prime? That was you, silly." Catching my expression, she slowly dragged herself up my body, letting me feel every inch of her. When she reached eye level, she placed one finger across my lips. "Uh-uh. Enough questions." Running one delicate foot along my inner thigh, she giggled as she began to caress me with her toes. "It looks like the soldier's back in action."

Straddling my waist, she bent down and breathed in my ear. "What do you say we show him a little deep trench warfare?" Sitting up suddenly, she slammed herself into place and began to grind, erasing all possibility of thought from my mind.

* * *

**April 7, 2003; Chiba, Japan**

Finishing my shower, I shaved and slowly dressed. She had left several hours ago, possibly as many as ten. I had immediately fallen into the sleep of the dead, or at least the severely over-sexed. For the first time since encountering Yua in the halls of Yamagato, I was able to think clearly. I still wanted her, but at least it was a quiet desire instead of the thought-obliterating need I had been consumed by.

I stared thoughtfully out the window in her living area. I'd already tested it. I could probably break it in time, but it would take awhile and probably bring every security drone in the building running. I'd encountered the same when I'd checked the only door.

There was no escaping the fact that I was a captive. No matter how many times a day she used me for her own, personal, live-action fuck-toy, no matter how much I might enjoy it, the ass-fucks running this particular Popsicle stand weren't going to just let me go. I just wished they'd tell me what the fuck they wanted.

When the door clicked open, the lust began to build again. There was a small thudding sound as she set something on her table, and the quiet clicking of her heels against the tile. She bent over my shoulder and used her tongue to bring my earlobe between her teeth, where she gently nipped it. The heat built to a fever pitch. "I brought lunch."

My pulse pounding in my ears, I watched her lay back on the couch, spreading her legs. Once again she was wearing a dangerously short skirt and no underwear. "What would you like to eat first? Lunch? Or me?"

* * *

**April 9, 2003; Chiba, Japan**

They finally allowed me out of Yua's room. When she came with my lunch, she was wearing an outfit considerably more conservative in cut than what she normally had around me. The lust still built as she entered, and increased further as she dragged her nails across the back of my neck, but it remained manageable.

Now, I was seated in what almost resembled a board room. The main difference being that there was a mostly empty section off to one side. The scents coming from that area indicated it was used for executions. Yua was not alone at the table. She was joined by a half-dozen others. I smiled at them as they glanced at me in fear. I kept my eyes shadowed and didn't reveal I understood what they were saying.

All the questions were variations of, "What is he doing here?", "This is not the place for your little diversions, Yua.", and "Are you certain he's under control."

Her answer was always a cold smile and, "I am doing what I was asked to do."

Finally, after everybody was seated and comfortable, a voice came over the speaker on the table. "Cairo is live."

Suddenly, the large monitor at the end of the table crackled to life. There was no picture, but there was audio. "I assume you're working your magic, Yua?"

"Of course, Mr. Bernhelm."

"Indeed. Obviously, he's susceptible to your charms. Shall we test another aspect?" Without waiting for an answer, he said, "Bring in the prisoner."

The doors opened and a man, badly beaten, was dragged in and thrown into the empty area of the room. When he rolled to his knees, I recognized his battered face. Reggie Leightner. A true asshat. He was part of Kaito's security team, known to be a trouble maker. Lecherous asshole, to tell the truth.

During one of the training practices, he hadn't stopped 'accidentally' slipping his hand inside Elle's shirt or pants until she had 'accidentally' blasted him across the room. He had then begun to make insulting and disparaging remarks about both her and I. That was solved when I selected him to show the security drones how to handle an attacker. He spent the next three days in the medical wing.

I couldn't hold back a grin of contempt. He'd apparently been grabbed at the same time I had been, although his arrangements appeared to have been less comfortable. The contempt moved into anger, which built toward rage.

With a knowing smile, Yua leaned back against me. Grasping the back of my head in one hand, she dragged me down. Whispering into my ear, she said, "He's caused us a few problems. Kill him, please."

Every word, every touch, stoked a fury that was building into a raging fire. When she released me, I was an unthinking animal. Breathing heavily, I leapt at the target of my animalistic rage. He looked at me in fear, and I smashed in his face with the back of my hand.

Grabbing the handcuffs, I used them to throw him into the wall. Pouncing on him as he bounced from the wall, I grabbed his throat in one hand and began to squeeze. When he squeaked, I slammed my other hand into his stomach.

I beat him for at least twenty minutes. I threw him around the room. I tore at his flesh. Breaking the handcuffs, I grabbed one arm and threw him by it, snapping him as he reached the end of it. He kept flying, but the arm stayed with me. By the time the fury subsided, I was soaked in blood and was standing over the carcass of something that nobody could ever have identified as having even been human.

Breathing deeply, feeling the fires fade as I stood over the body of a man I may have despised, may even have hated, but had never wanted to kill as brutally as this, I tried to bring my sluggish thoughts under control. Something was wrong here, and I couldn't figure out what.

From behind me, the gasps of surprise and horror rising from around the table, with one notable exception, were overwhelmed by another voice. That voice was raised in laughter. "Excellent, Ms. Nakano. This may be your best work to date." There were several seconds of thoughtful silence. "I shall leave him in your capable hands. We will have more of these tests throughout the next few days. When I am certain he is truly ready, we will use him publicly. Until my next contact, this meeting is dismissed."

With my eyes closed, I felt and heard her approach behind me. Stroking her hand up my back and across my neck, she laughed lightly as a fire of a different kind began to build. "Superbly done, Havoc. We'll take you back to my place and get you cleaned up."

Back in her quarters, I stood still as she stripped me and ushered me into the shower. Several seconds later, she joined me under the pulsing heat of the spray. As she scrubbed the blood and gore from my body, I allowed the stream to pound into my tense muscles. Finally, I felt her hands turning me around. As I turned to face her, she flashed a wicked smile and licked her lips.

Giving me a long kiss, which ignited the heat to fever pitch, she dropped to her knees. Closing my eyes, I moaned as she worked me. Finally, holding her head in place, I collapsed against the wall and slid to the floor. I felt her shiver, even as she kept bobbing and licking, when I ran my fingers along her spine. Even as my breathing quickened, I enjoyed her excited shudder as I lightly pinched her breasts.

Guiding with my hands, I turned her around so I could do to her what she was doing to me. She writhed as I pressed my lips against her. She moaned as I traced her with my tongue. And her breathing began to come in ragged gasps as my tongue, aided by two well trained fingers, alternated between entering her and caressing her nub.

All thought was burned away by the heat that consumed my body and mind as pure animal lust again took control.

* * *

**April 20, 2003; Chiba, Japan**

Every day remained virtually identical to the one before. With the exception of those days I was brought to the meeting room, they were consumed by food and sex. The only variation in that routine came a little over a week ago. During that time, Yua had brought in a willing young woman to take her place as my partner. At least, the way she acted suggested she was willing.

On previous visits to the room where the meetings were held, it was always the same. Bernhelm's voice would come over the audio feed. I would find myself facing somebody, usually someone I had never met before, and I would be overcome by hatred and rage. Anywhere up to an hour later the fury would die and the victim would be unrecognizable.

I'd given up trying to figure out what was really going on. Every time I brought up Kaito, the Organization or Elle, I was given the barest of answers before being almost immediately overcome by another round of superheated lust. In the brief periods of time when I was able to think coherently and rationally, I knew I was being controlled somehow. I had never been able to figure out how.

Today I was seated in my accustomed spot, just behind Yua, in the meeting room. As always, Bernhelm's voice cam over the audio and congratulated her on what he termed her masterpiece. "I think, however, it is time to begin stepping it up. We know he works well in executions. Can you make him fight?"

"I can guarantee it, Sir."

"We'll see. Bring in the training group."

The door opened, and a group of six men were herded into the observation area. Once there, they were handed weapons and told to wait. As I watched them, the rage and hatred began to build, flavored with contempt. Reaching back over her shoulder, Yua grabbed the back of my head and pulled me down to her. "You know what to do, dear? When you get in there, prove you can kill half a dozen as easily as one." With a quick nip on my ear, she released me.

The touch and words stoked the fires to new heat. They led me into the viewing area, handed me a blade, and then ran to safety. My breathing was harsh, sounding loudly in my ears. My lips were drawn back from my teeth in a feral snarl. The blade they had given me felt as if it belonged there. The last shred of my conscious mind recognized the feel as belonging to one of my own kukri blades. That widened the grin further.

I didn't want to kill them. I was so infuriated, so filled consumed by hatred, that I wanted to make them hurt. They never knew what hit them. Blow after blow failed to connect with me. The first five were dead in minutes. The sixth managed to connect. That really pissed me off.

I kept him alive for another twenty minutes. At the end of it when, even in my completely enraged state, his screams of agony had grown monotonous and annoying, I sent his head flying. The rage dissipated almost immediately. Yua walked over to me and took my blade. She wiped the blood from my face, and pulled me into a kiss that immediately awoke the heat of lust.

"Excellent work, Yua Nakano." The voice coming over the speaker was amused as well as impressed. "I believe, when next I call for you, he will be ready for a more public use."

When he disconnected, she turned from me. "Very well. Somebody clean this mess." Taking me by the hand, she headed out the main door. "I will take care of my end."

Back in her quarters, we repeated what had become a nightly custom. As we collapsed in the shower, bodies thrusting together in fevered passion, my last thought was about Bernhelm's last words. What 'public use' was he talking about?

* * *

**Author's Note:** Was the sex excessive? Certainly. Did I make probably many more references to Havoc's being "out of control" than would normally be necessary? Absolutely.  
Bear with me though. There was method to everything, even my failure to mention Elle after he was grabbed. Stay tuned. The next chapter's going to get bloody before things get resolved. And I'm working on that now.


	15. Chapter 15: A Stronger Emotion

**April 23, 2003; Chiba, Japan**

Yua leaned against me as the sun went down. We sat in an empty apartment across the nearly empty street, and several flights above, the building we had been watching. Taking a sip from the wine she had brought along, she nodded across the street. "Shin Maeda lives there, along with his family.

"He's rich. Powerful. Comes from old blood. Traces his line back to the Sengoku era."

Narrowing my eyes as the hatred began to build, I deliberately shrugged, letting my hand slide inside her blouse. "And?"

Working around so I could better grope her, she pulled me into a kiss. Withdrawing her tongue, she smiled. "He pissed of the Yakuza. For reasons that are unimportant, and probably not very nice, they want him dead. They hired us because they don't want it traced to their organization."

Closing my eyes, I felt the fury growing with every breath. "Alone?"

Pulling my hand out of her blouse, she grinned. "His family's not there, but he's not alone. He has a Yakuza mistress, and a dozen or so guards."

Standing up, she helped me to my feet. Even through my glove, I felt the heat from her hand as the hatred was stoked yet hotter. When I was on my feet, she pulled me into another kiss. "You're fully armed, of course. I even got you fresh ammo. All you have to do is go over there and kill everything that moves."

A feral grin covered my face "Even the mistress?"

"How better to make people believe the Yakuza couldn't possibly be responsible?"

Walking over to the window, I pushed it open and gauged the distance. Backing up, I pulled my kukris out. With a knowing smile, Yua moved out of my way. By the end of my sprint to the window, I had pushed into a new layer of rage and hatred. Unlike the lust that had consumed me earlier, and would doubtless consume me later, the rage didn't obliterate thought. At least not completely.

Every thought was directed to one goal; the obliteration of every single person inside the building I was leaping toward. Rolling in the air, so my feet would slam through my target window first, I allowed a grin filled with blood lust to cover my face. The first contact sent a jar through my spine, immediately followed by the crashing of the glass. As my feet hit the floor, I immediately executed a forward roll.

On my feet, I looked around. My entrance had shocked the three people into absolute stillness. Excellent. Before they knew what was happening, I leapt into the air, landing behind the closest of the three guards. As soon as I landed, the blade flashed through her neck, launching her head through the air. Before her body had even begun to collapse, I jumped into a back flip, flipping one of the kukris through the air while I was upside down. The blade carved through his chest, slicing into his heart and killing him where he stood. He didn't even have time to blink.

As his body collapsed, I laughed. The sound was not one of enjoyment so much as sheer blood lust colored by a heavy dose of hatred. Flicking my head around from where I had landed, crouched, on the floor, I saw the final target inching around for a shot. Narrowing my eyes, I spun to face him. With a vicious grin, I jumped toward him, altering my grip on the remaining blade while in air.

Even in my barely human state, I read the knowledge of impending death in his eyes. He was struggling to raise his pistol into position when I connected. My legs wrapped around his chest and we started collapsing to the ground. In less than a second the kukri was solidly planted between his eyes, slicing through his skull like paper. I rolled over him as I contacted the floor, dragging the blade from his skull in a motion that neatly divided it into half. Looking around wildly, I yanked the other blade from my second victim's chest.

Out in the hall, I encountered more guards. I hadn't even tried to be silent, so they knew something was up. They weren't expecting the rabid animal that jumped into the middle of their group. By the time I was finished, less than ten minutes after encountering them, they were all dead, and in far more pieces than when I started. I was carrying several bullet wounds, and more stab wounds, but I was alive.

Blood lust consumed my mind, coupled with a hatred and rage I had never before known. An animal in human form stalked the halls, killing quickly but brutally everything I encountered. Finally, I was standing, covered in blood and sweat, outside a door. It sounded like I was about to interrupt something.

Twisting the doorknob, I heard a quiet crack as the lock broke. Slipping my head through the slim opening, I eyed the room with interest. A man who could only be Shin Maeda was tied by the ankles and wrists to the bed. His Yakuza mistress writhed and moaned from where she was seated astride his face. Her position blocked him from hearing any sound I might have made, and she was far too close to orgasm to pay attention to any extraneous noise.

Sliding noiselessly inside, I dipped my hand into my coat and pulled out a throwing knife. His position provided me with far too tempting a target. With a smooth cast, the blade sliced into the erect penis and through the testicles. It came to a stop only when it contacted pelvic bone. His screams were muffled by the location of his mouth, but she could clearly tell the difference in motion.

Her head snapped around. Seeing me, she smoothly rolled off Shin and landed, catlike, on her feet. Despite my appearance she gave no hint of fear. Moving lightly on her feet, she glided across the floor. At the last second, she launched herself into a forward roll.

Against another fighter, the roll would have ended with her landing with her thighs wrapped around his neck, ultimately snapping it like a twig. Even in my state, enraged nearly beyond thought and consumed by a hatred I could not even begin to fathom, I was far from her typical opponent. When she launched out of the roll, she skewered herself neatly through the breast on my kukri. As she rode the blade toward me, burying it deeper in her chest, I yanked it to the side, tearing it through flesh and bone.

Ducking away from her collapsing body, I leapt onto the bed. Less than a minute had passed since the thrown blade carved into him, but he had finally passed out. With a furious snarl, I grabbed the blade firmly and pulled it straight up, staring into his face as he awoke and began to scream with the agony. Then I began to carve, slowly and with an attention to detail spawned by a violent hatred I couldn't begin to explain.

Three hours later, I sprinted from the house and across the street, ducking into an abandoned alley just as the grenades I had thrown near the furnace exploded. The fury and hatred left me as the small building went up in flame.

* * *

**April 26, 2003; Chiba, Japan**

She was nibbling on my neck in a corner booth at a bar. For once, I had been allowed outside the compound. I'd almost forgotten what it was like. I was drinking whiskey straight from the bottle, and the arm around her waist was connected to the hand that had slipped inside her pants.

I was keeping my eye on a group of Westerners, even more out of place than I was, that had the look of wannabe toughs. As they approached, I felt the rage beginning to build. Apparently feeling me tense, she looked up from where she had been grazing. "Be careful. They're not alone."

By the time they had reached me, less than twenty seconds after I spotted them, I was on my feet. My mind on fire with a pulsing rage that would take nearly nothing to set off. And one of them provided the spark.

The largest of them looked at me with contempt, and reached for my bottle. "Give us the bottle and the bitch, we'll let you walk out of here."

I snapped.

Minutes later, I awoke from a haze tinged with a red-hot fury. The man who wanted my whiskey had it. The bottle had been shoved through his eye and into his brain. The four others with him were also dead, a pair with broken necks, and another pair that had apparently been smashed together so hard their heads split like overripe melons.

I couldn't remember what happened. I'd been in bar fights before, but never when I was so consumed by rage. What was happening to me?

* * *

**April 30, 2003; Chiba, Japan**

Once again, we were in the meeting room. As always, I was seated directly behind Yua when the call from Cairo came in. Unlike previous meetings, this call was accompanied by a video. Bernhelm stared at me for several seconds. "Yua?"

"Yes, Mr. Bernhelm?"

"Is he ready?"

"I believe so. The tests have all gone flawlessly."

"You have control?"

"Of course. More control with him, perhaps due to the nature of his abilities, than over any other person I've used mine on."

"And he will do what is demanded?"

"Without fail thus far."

"Superb." Speaking to the group at large, his voice took on the tone of one accustomed to giving orders. "We're moving on to the next phase. When you attack the Tokyo facility, the target must die." Pinning Yua with his gaze, he dropped his voice slightly. "Your pet must be the one to lead the attack, and must be the one to kill the target. Clear?"

"Clear."

"When that is finished, assuming it goes as flawlessly as planned and expected, you will bring him to Cairo for the next phase of the mission."

"Understood, Sir."

"Good. Prepare your teams, the attack commences at my next contact."

* * *

**June 3, 2003; Tokyo, Japan**

During the flight and drive, Yua had never been away from me. Most of the trip had been spent in direct physical contact. Looking out the window, I realized we were outside the Yamagato campus. "What the fuck? No way in hell am I attacking my own people."

She placed a finger across my lips. Suddenly, the fury and hatred began to build. "We're your people, Havoc. All you have to do is lead us to him." Leaning in for a quick kiss, she grinned, "We'll take care of the rest."

By the time she was finished speaking and touching, I would have done anything. Between the overpowering lust, the superheated rage, and the furious hatred that had been building in me, now reaching their peak, I would have attacked the an army barehanded.

When she opened the door, the entire team exited, with the two of us in the lead. We split into groups of three or four. It was a smaller insertion this time. The plan was to go in, raise as much hell as possible, kill or grab Kaito, and get out. Even in my current state, I had enough intelligence left to know it wouldn't be that easy.

And when it came time to actually follow through? Would I be able to stop myself? Would I want to?

The questions stopped as the blood lust was given control. The guards at the gate were slaughtered in silence as I led my group into the main campus. With a roar, I slammed through the door, guns drawn.

The entry was abandoned. I didn't waste time with the elevator, I led my team into the stairwell. For whatever reason, no guards were on the stairs. Slamming through the door on the proper floor, we were confronted by empty hall. Even through my nearly incoherent state, the question percolated. "What the fuck is going on here?"

Growling in frustrated fury, I led Yua and the others down the abandoned hallway until we reached Kaito's office. Smashing through the door, we were confronted with a full room.

Kaito sat at his desk, surrounded by armed guards. Better than fifty guards, all combined. In front of the pack, within reaching distance, was Elle. Her face struck a chord deep within. I was in no shape to understand what was happening to me. I raised my pistols.

The guards all raised their to match me. Elle never took her eyes from my face. Holding one hand up, she commanded, "Security team, hold fire."

I stared at my hands. Why were they shaking? Yua stepped up behind me, trailing her fingers along my neck. "Why do you hesitate? Kill them."

Her touch and voice increased the rage, but I still couldn't pull the triggers. Dropping the pistols to the floor, I reached under and grabbed my blades. Yanking them out, I began to growl in a fury that was growing by the second, helped not in the least by the fact that I couldn't bring myself to move.

Elle stared at me. "Hav? What's wrong?" Her voice warred with the emotions raised by Yua's touch and voice. I had to kill her. I hated her with every ounce of breath in my body, with every fiber of my being I despised her. Didn't I?

Yua hadn't removed her hand from my neck. Elle narrowed her eyes in anger. "Get your hands off him, bitch!" A bolt flashed from her raised palm into Yua's shoulder, spinning her away from me, and breaking her grip on the back of my neck.

As if that triggered the needed release, I gave in to the fury and blood lust and begin to slash, stab and hack. Bullets and blades hacked into me. As I was going through my second body, a blade slashed into my neck, severing the artery. Less than a second later, I was collapsing to the floor.

* * *

**Deveaux Building, New York**

"Welcome back, Michael."

Blinking against the sudden light, I found myself lying in Charles' bed . Glancing around, I found myself in his apartment back in New York. I remembered bullets burning into my body, blood spurting into my face, and a blade entering my throat. What was I doing here?

On the positive side, the passions that had controlled me for a month or more were suddenly absent. I could think. I could breathe without feeling constricted.

"Wonderful, isn't it? Freedom?"

Pushing myself up on my elbows, I glanced across the room curiously. Charles was lounging in his favorite chair, staring out the window into a snowy New York winter. "Snow? In April?"

"My world. My rules. I like snow. I love the silence it blankets this city in." Laughing, he looked over at me. "How are you feeling, my friend?"

Sitting up, I shook my head. "Better, I guess. I assume I'm going to survive?"

"Of course. Your ability virtually guarantees that. You're in a coma right now, actually."

"Where, though? Which side won?"

Shaking his head, he waved me over to an empty chair. "That, my friend, is something you'll have to discover when you wake up. It has nothing to do with why I brought you here again."

Walking over to the offered seat, I quirked an eyebrow. "And that reason would be?"

"Remember the last time you were here, and I commented about a story for another time?"

Frowning, I rubbed my neck in thought. "Yeah, I think so. Wasn't that when you sprung the news on me that Bob had terminated a pair of pregnancies for Elle? You said something about how the Ice Bitch and Lindergeek would've been pissed if they'd known."

Clearing his throat, he allowed an amused smile to cross his face. "Do you have any idea about why they'd be so upset?"

"Just that you said something about my DNA."

"Precisely. Daniel is, above all else, an experimenter. He likes to mix and to match and see what the result is. It's part of what makes him a master chef. When he joined with us to form this Organization, he met several of like mind, among them Angela.

"Originally, it began as a breeding experiment; take two people with unique and either powerful or at least useful abilities, put them together, and watch the result." With a grimace of distaste, he shrugged. "Part of what I was doing in Vegas was checking on one of those experiments, actually." Suddenly, a smile flashed through. "I think he's in for a surprise with that one. He may have brought them together, but their love is real and stronger than iron."

Staring back out at the snow covered city, he sighed. "That's part of the reason they'd be so upset about Robert's actions. Any child carrying your DNA would most likely be a powerful addition to the Organization. When you have the other half coming from one with the power Elle carries, that certainty becomes almost a guarantee."

Pinning me to the chair with a simple gaze, he tried to smile. "The truth though, is they have other plans for you."

"Other plans?"

"Do you remember Agent Noonan?"

Stunned at the apparent change in conversation, I stared at him for several minutes. "Sarah? Of course. She's one of the few I actually consider a friend, and about the only agent I can think of who is in any way my equal."

Nodding quietly, he kept his eyes on me. "Daniel considers her to be nearly perfect. Her ability and training have made her virtually the perfect killer." His eyes were filled with a peculiar sorrow. "He worked hard to achieve that. He wanted a killer without pity, without remorse, most especially without conscience. He nearly succeeded."

After several seconds of silence, his eyes cleared. "What is the only thing that could take the perfect killer and make it better?" When I simply stared at him, he laughed. "Well, if you're Daniel, you upgrade. Better living through superior genetics. In this case, you take a nearly perfect killer, mix it with a hunter-killer at the same level, and see what you get."

I suffered a coughing fit. In the Company, one name rose to the surface when discussing the perfect hunter. "What the fuck? You mean he wants me to hook up with Sarah?" I couldn't decide whether to be irritated or amused.

"That's exactly what he wants. Angela is less interested in the specifics. She is more interested in breeding as many of our kind as possible. Daniel is interested in breeding only the best when possible. In this case, he wants your seed and Sarah's egg. He also wishes to personally raise the resultant child."

"There's a big problem with this whole picture, Charles."

"And that would be?"

With a grin, I shrugged, "The two of us will never hook up."

"Why not?"

Tapping my nose, I grinned. "Too sensitive. Her ability, the one that makes her so special, gives her a very distinctive scent, and it turns my stomach."

"There are ways around that, you know."

"The Haitian?"

"Not exactly." Scratching his stomach, he laughed. "The Company has long kept a practice of storing eggs and semen from the more powerful of those that are located. I wouldn't be surprised to find that there's a vial with your name in there, and I know Daniel harvested several of her eggs years ago."

"So...you think he'd inseminate one of the eggs and then...what? Implant it in someone?"

"Assuming they can't get it the old-fashioned way." Seeing my face, he shrugged. "The problem of your olfactory sense getting in the way was never considered. Not by Daniel." With a wry grin, he chuckled. "Daniel never stops to consider anything getting in the way of his grand designs."

Clearing his throat, he looked back out the window. "They're putting together something even now. If things go as I expect, you'll be working closely with her sometime in the next couple, maybe three, years. Daniel wants it because he's hoping the two of you will sleep together. Robert's pushing for it, because it'll get you away from his daughter, and he'll have a chance to get her back entirely under his dominion. Angela's for it because she's curious. She wants to see the two of you in action together."

"And you?"

"I admit to a little curiosity about the two of you working together. More importantly, I'm afraid there's something coming down the pike that will take the two of you to handle." Slapping his hands to his legs, he coughed. "That's enough for now, I believe." Waving his hand to the side, he grinned. "Why don't you take a look over there?"

Turning my head, I saw a door in the middle of the room. Exploding out of that door was a nearly blinding radiance. Raising an eyebrow, I turned back to look at him. "Step into the light? Isn't that a bit of a cliche?" Laughing, I scratched my neck again. "Besides, I thought you said I was going to survive."

"True and true." Laughing quickly, he shrugged. "I have urges for theatricality sometimes. Sue me.

"Through that door is your life. Walk through it and you wake up. What you'll find when you get there..."

I knew him well enough to know he wasn't going to say anything further. It was also a dismissal. Standing to my feet, I walked to the door. After a last glance over my shoulder, I pushed myself through.

* * *

**June 7, 2003; Tokyo, Japan**

The light overwhelmed me. A viscous mass. It burned and it froze. I blinked open my eyes for just a second. The light that met them was so blinding I immediately closed them again.

The sounds of the room began to intrude. The monitors beeped softly. The IV released its fluid into my blood with a steady dripping sound. Heels clicked down the hall. People spoke in hushed whispers.

Scents intruded next. The coppery smell of my own blood. The acidic tang of the fluid being administered through the IV. The antiseptic quality of any room in virtually any hospital in the world. Sweat and blood and medicine and love and fear mingled.

My mouth tasted like ass. I always hated the taste you found when your mouth had tubes shoved and taped into place for everything from breathing to eating.

There was another scent in the room. A familiar scent. A scent indescribable to someone who has never encountered it, but unmistakable to one one who has. Bitter but sweet. Woody, but flowery. A spice unlike any other. And over all other traces in the scent? Ozone shredded by a electrons seeking the ground.

Opening my eyes again, blinking past the pain, I rolled my head slightly. She sat nearby, in an uncomfortable chair. By all appearances, she had not moved since I had been brought in. The sight and scent brought a desire entirely different than that which had enslaved me for the past month.

Forcing my tongue past the tubes, I licked my lips slightly. "Hello, Elle."


	16. Chapter 16: Enslaved

**June 7, 2003; Tokyo, Japan**

Her gray eyes, almost closed in sleep, jerked open. "Hav?" Hardly daring to look at me, she sat up. "You're...you're awake?"

Trying to say anything else around the tubes was an exercise in futility, so I nodded. She stared at me for several seconds before running out of the room. Minutes later she was back, followed by a team of Company medics. I was forced to stare at the ceiling as they worked, but I could feel her. She couldn't take her eyes from me.

After the team finished checking my vitals and removing the various tubes, one of the nurses smiled gently. "She hasn't left the room since you were brought in, nearly dead. The doctor will be in soon to explain what happened."

When the team left, Elle walked over. "If you ever pull that shit on me again, I'll fry your ass to the wall." The glare she directed at me lost some of its ferocity because of the tears in her eyes.

Trying to smile, I sat upright. After a quick stretch, I grabbed her hand and pulled her over. "Like what?"

She gave me a fierce look followed by a deliberate jolt, just hard enough to sting without getting hurt. "Like promising me the night of my life and then vanishing for a month, asshole."

Laughing, I pulled her into the bed and kissed the top of her head. Snuggling up against me, she sighed. "I thought I lost you, damn it." Wrinkling her nose in distaste, she swore. "God, you smell like ass."

"Nice." Rolling my eyes, I traced my thumb across her stomach. "I'll wash up later. Then we need to talk."

She was about to ask me a question when the doctor walked in. Glancing at the bed, he laughed. "Good to see you've fully recovered."

"What the fuck happened to me?"

"Which part?"

"All of it, damn it." Closing my eyes, I breathed deeply for several seconds. "I don't lose control. Ever. Whatever the fuck that bitch did to me, I couldn't even think straight."

The doctor pulled out a chair and sat down. Tossing the file onto the table, he nodded. "I'd have been surprised if you'd been able to." Taking a deep breath, he shook his head. "We've never encountered someone like her before. We've done a complete workup on her. I'm sure you'll be pleased to hear it was extremely painful for her. It seems she could control her pheromones"

"Pheromones? I thought that was an animal thing?"

"Normally. Humans have less than half the receptors of the least sensitive animal. Typically, pheromones might garner someone a second look, a mild irritation. Nakano was able to manipulate and amplify them. In normal humans she could excite lust, rage, any and all emotions. Normally, her ability would be dangerous but not insurmountable. She could incite lust, but not overpowering. She could enrage somebody, but they'd be able to overcome it if they had a second to think."

I caught an odd tone in his voice. There was something he had deliberately avoided mentioning. "Why was it so much stronger with me? When she did her thing to me, I was literally helpless. I've never lost control like that in my life." With a grimace, I remembered killing 'Master.' "At least, not in several years."

Opening the file, he cleared his throat. "According to your charts, one aspect of your ability is an inhumanly advanced olfactory system. According to the notations, you may even surpass most animals in that regard. Unfortunately, that made you uniquely susceptible to her ability. When she turned her attention to you, and hit you with the full force of her ability, you were quite literally helpless."

Clearing his throat, he set my file aside. "There's...something else I need to tell you. You were brought in around 10 the night of the third." Glancing at the clock, he shrugged. "It's now a little past 5 in the afternoon, and it's the seventh."

"Almost four days? I never take that long."

"We know. You actually had healed enough to revive within a few hours. We had to keep you in a medically induced coma until about five hours ago."

"What? Why?"

"Turns out, in your case, Nakano's ability had a nasty side effect. Pheromones are chemicals, as are all scents. Your olfactory sense grabs the chemical, and interprets it. In most cases, even with her ability, the chemicals would be interpreted and ultimately be discarded through natural processes.

"For some reason, the chemicals took an odd turn. Instead of being interpreted and discarded, they built up. You were in her company for, what, a month? Over that time, the chemicals continued to build up. She, without realizing it, was destroying your mind, and not even your regenerative gifts were able to counteract it." Sensing my question, he shook his head. "I used the past tense quite deliberately. When we found out what had happened, Mr. Nakamura made a call. Between Mr. Linderman and a double infusion of Monroe's blood, we were able to cleanse your system."

Blinking, I concealed a sigh of relief. "Linderman's here?"

Standing, he grinned. "Yes. He's meeting with Mr. Nakamura right now. He, probably they, will want to talk with you tomorrow." He laughed suddenly. "I told them you were being released tonight, but wouldn't be up to such a meeting until at least noon tomorrow." Smiling at where Elle was shamelessly curled against me, he nodded. "I suspect you'll be making good use of that time, and very little of it will be restful."

After he left, Elle muttered, "He got that one right."

* * *

**1998; Los Angeles, California**

"Your target is Cho Sakamoto." Bob was delivering the briefing from behind his desk. "She has not manifested, as yet, but her family has done so many times. We want her with us when she does." A cold smile covered his face. "If her family line is any indication, she will be quite useful to us."

Shrugging, I glanced at the file he handed over. "Whatever." Thumbing through it, I saw her picture. "Cute. Where is she?"

"Olongapo. In the Philippines."

"Philippines? She looks Japanese, maybe Korean."

"Read the file. Everything you need is in there. Be back here in an hour to meet your partner."

Rolling my eyes, I grabbed the file and wandered back to my quarters, stopping to grab a snack and a beer on my way.

* * *

**June 7, 2003; Tokyo, Japan**

I walked out of the shower, wearing a pair of shorts. Elle walked out behind me. She hadn't joined me, but she seemed unwilling to let me out of her sight. After I sat down on the couch with a beer, she curled up against me again. Snaking an arm over my chest, she grabbed the beer and took a drink. "You wanna talk?"

Stealing the beer back, I laughed. "About?"

"Why you didn't kill me. According to Doctor What's-his-face, that skanky bitch had you under her complete control. From what he said, you had no choice but to do what she wanted." She looked up into my face. "You didn't fuck her, did you?" Shaking her head, she laughed. "Never mind. If I'd had that power, you'd have been fucking me when I was sixteen. No way she didn't give you a test run or six."

Growing serious again, she glanced back up. "Why didn't you kill me? She wanted you to. Hell, she told you to. I saw you try. What stopped you?"

Thinking back, I shuddered. In flashes, I remembered that night. Leveling my pistols, but unable to pull the triggers. Yua's voice and touch increasing the rage and the hatred until they were throbbing inside my veins, driving all else out, and yet I was still unable to take up the slack. Throwing them to the floor in frustration, and yanking out the kukri's. Raising them to begin a killing stroke, but unable to follow through. I stood there, trembling, caught between an iron will and a wall that stopped me cold.

"What stopped me?" Her eyes? The way they so perfectly conveyed her mood? The way they sparked when she was furious, and the glow they carried when she was making love? The hardness when she was upset, and the softness when content? It wasn't just her eyes, but everything about her. She was a million different people, an endless complexity.

Tracing a finger down the top of her spine, from hairline to the top of her shirt, feeling her shudder, I couldn't help but laugh. "Honestly? It was you."

She stopped dead. All movement, nearly all breathing. She looked into my face, her heart in her eyes. "Wha...?" Raising a hand, she traced it across my cheek, unable to resist given a few sparks as it dragged down to my lips. "How? All I did was stand there."

I thought back. "Have you ever talked with Charles for any length of time?"

"Daddy's friend? The black guy?" When I nodded, she shrugged. "A little. Why?"

"He has a saying. I never understood what he meant before. In the end, all that matters is love." Smiling at her sudden intake of breath, I shrugged. "Turns out, he was right. There's no other explanation, Elle. Nothing else could have stopped me."

She stopped; her heart in her glorious eyes. She barely seemed to be breathing. "You...what...are you...Hav? Are you saying what I'm hearing?"

Shrugging, I ran my fingers through her hair. "Depends. If you're hearing me admit, finally, that I love you, then yes."

She pulled me into a kiss. For just a second, she seemed almost to melt into me. Then she zapped me in the chest and jumped away from me. "You son of a bitch!"

Rubbing the healing spot on my chest, I swore. "What the fuck?"

"You don't get to do this, damn it!"

I stared at her incredulously. She was on the other side of the room, eyes sparking in fury, hair rustling as she lost control of her body's current. Rubbing at the spot she had fried, I swore again. "What the hell are you going on about?"

Tears were leaking out of her eyes, no matter how hard she tried to prevent them. "I nearly lost you, damn it. You vanished without a fucking trace, dick first into the first open cunt you sniffed!"

I started to get up, but she blasted me again. "Do you have any fucking idea what I went through, Hav? Jesus, Hav, I was terrified. The past month has been pure fucking hell. You know what we do to people. What could I assume but you being given the same treatment? I went to sleep at night with your screams in my ears, damn it. I spent the days working my ass off so I could collapse at night and not dream! Because every dream I had was you being tortured!

"Damn it, Hav, I was scared to fucking death! We didn't know where you'd gone, who had you, what they fucking wanted. And while we spent the past month praying for any sign of where you were, you were fucking the brains out of the first God damned whore willing to let you!"

Rubbing the spot on my chest, opened again by her blast, I muttered under my breath. I listened to her tirade until she started to repeat herself, until I got tired of hearing it. Finally, I stood up. She blasted me and tried to keep going, but I shrugged it off. I'd heard enough. "God damn it, Elle, just shut the fuck up! I love you. Nothing's going to change that, but you need to shut your God damned mouth and listen!

"You think I couldn't wait to bang that whore? Christ, Elle, I didn't have a fucking choice. I was nothing but a fucking vibrator, a man-sized fucking dildo for that bitch! If she decided she wanted a good fuck, she turned on the juice and I couldn't do a damn thing about it.

"I was a FUCKING SLAVE! The one thing I swore would never happen again, fucking happened. Have you even bothered to read my file?" She had been stunned into silence. I almost never blew up, and even more rarely at her. I didn't wait for her to answer. "I've started to get my memory back. In the Republic, when I had that attack in the house? You wanna know what the fuck that was? That was me remembering the night my mother was fucking killed by a slaver! They grabbed me, I don't think I was even three at the time, and sold to some ass wipe in God only fucking knows where.

"Seven years before being recruited into this God forsaken Company, I killed that son of a bitch. I tore him into fucking shreds, and burned his damned carcass. And I swore, watching the incinerator at work, that I would be damned before I'd be a fucking slave again!

"And then that cock juggling thundercunt hit the fuck button and had me before I even fucking saw her! Do you think I fucking ENJOYED what happened? Christ, Elle, I could barely fucking think! I was a damned animal! I was a slave and a fucking EXPERIMENT!

"Jesus, Elle! The only times I was able to think were the extremely rare times I was alone in that damned room. The rest of the time, she used her ability to keep me on fucking edge. All I wanted, when I was able to think, was get the fuck back here!

"You wanted to know why I didn't kill you? You want the fucking truth? I don't think I could've stopped myself if I'd been faced with anyone else in that office. But she wanted me to kill you. And that sadistic bitch knew just what she was doing. She found out quite a bit about you, about us, during her control. I know damn fucking well she wanted you dead, and at my hand."

I had finally wound down. The bitterness that I hadn't even been aware of had finally expended. I sat back down on the edge of the bed, and took a long pull of my beer. "The fact is, I couldn't kill you. It's unbelievably fucked up, but I love you." Shrugging, I glanced across at her. "That's all I got, Elle."

She stared at me. Finally, she gave a shy smile. "Say that again."

Puzzled, I blinked slowly. "What?"

Walking toward me, slowly but purposefully, she smiled again. Unusually for her, it was a completely open and honest smile. "That last part. About how you feel about me."

Raising my eyebrow with a smile, I watched her approach. "When I said that I love you?"

Pressing her finger to my lips, she let a small spark escape. "That's the one."

Pulling her into my arms, I rolled over until she was lying under me. Crushing our lips together, our bodies began to move in rhythm even before we had finished undressing each other.

* * *

**1998; Olongapo, Philippines**

"Shut the fuck up, Howard!"

"What? You telling me you haven't noticed the new girl? Shit, Havoc. She's got the kind of body most men dream of nailing. Hell, I wonder if.." He trailed off as my pistol pressed against his crotch.

"One: They're real. Two: She's every bit as flexible as she looks. Three: If you don't shut the fuck up right now, I'll blow Frank and Beans away. We're not here to talk about your futile attempts to get into her panties, Agent Howard."

Looking into his suddenly pale and sweating face, I shook my head and put the gun away. "Here's the deal. You're Bob's golden boy. For some reason, he thinks you're a great agent. But, if you breath anything that even remotely sounds like dick, pussy, tits or sex, I will gladly rip your fucking head off with my bare hands. Do you understand me, shit face?"

Snorting in disgust, I pushed away from the wall. "Christ, I fucking hate being forced to have a partner." Glancing down the street, I watched the guard detail change on the building we were watching. The pattern held true. Shift change every four hours. And the change took about five minutes. Five minutes in which there were no guards on any of the entrances.

Turning, I grabbed him by the arm and dragged him back to the alley. "We have four hours to rest. And by that, I mean fucking rest. I don't want to hear a fucking word out of you. When the time comes, we sneak in, grab Sakamoto, and get the hell out. Got it?"

"What if we can't do it quietly?"

With a vicious grin, I shook my head. "Sakamoto is leaving that building in our custody. Anybody tries to get in the way dies."

"Bob's not going to like that."

"I could give a fuck. The mission is to grab Sakamoto. And I don't fucking fail on missions. So, Sakamoto will be leaving with us." When he started to object again, I shoved a knife against his throat. "Keep pushing and you'll be heroically killed helping bring this girl into the fold." Putting the knife away, I sank against the opposite wall and closed my eyes. "Now shut the fuck up. That four hours started five minutes ago."

* * *

**June 7, 2003; Tokyo, Japan**

Hours had passed since the last time either of us had instigated anything. Unusually, we were enjoying simply being together. I lay on my back stroking Elle's back as she pressed against my side, tracing obscure diagrams on my chest. Periodically she'd release a small charge into my chest and giggle as I winced. I'd grown used to the game over the years, and even found myself enjoying it. I'd missed them the past month.

"I'm sorry, Hav."

Glancing down, I realized she had been crying. "Why?"

Brushing the tear aside, she smiled. "For being such a bitch earlier. You didn't deserve that."

Brushing the hair from her face, I tried to smile gently at her. It was an expression I'd never been good at, but it seemed to work for her. "And you didn't deserve me to jump down your throat. You were hurt and upset, and you needed to vent. I should have let you."

"Don't try to patronize me, Hav." She started to sit up, eyes flashing in irritation.

Putting a finger on her lips, I shook my head. "I'm not. I'm telling the truth. I knew when I went off that you were just venting. I should never have hit you with both barrels."

"Whatever." She rolled over and lay across my chest, her blond hair pillowing around her. The hand that had been rubbing her back was now laying on her flat stomach. "Believe it or not, I read your file."

That actually managed to shock me. She didn't read files. She claimed she saw little point to it, especially regarding partners. "When?"

"Back when we first started working together. Remember when you refused to have sex?" When I nodded, she laughed. "I couldn't understand that, which meant I couldn't understand you. So I asked Daddy for a copy."

"And?"

"It had everything. About your mother and her murder, your slavery. Dates, places, names. Literally everything."

The hand that had begun to stroke her stomach stilled. I closed my eyes so she wouldn't see the rage building. It was a struggle to keep my voice calm. "You've known? All this time, and this is the first you're telling me about it?"

"I asked Daddy. He said he and his friends decided to wipe your memory in order to preserve your mental health. He said you might remember someday, but I wasn't supposed to remind you."

Of course. Bob would undoubtedly have preferred my memory never to return. Absently I began to run my fingers across her stomach, moving slowly up until I could caress her breasts. I remembered everything now, including details that had definitely not been in the sanitized file Bob had let Elle see.

Suddenly she sat up. "I know all the dates, Hav. You've never had a birthday before, have you?"

Shaking my head, I raised an eyebrow. "No. I've never been particularly interested anyway, but I also never knew the date."

The grin broadened. "But I do! I know where you were born, your mother's family, the actual day and month. I could tell you everything you wanted to know!"

Reaching out, I pulled her over to me. Taking the breast hanging so invitingly in front of me, I traced the nipple with my tongue, grinning as I felt it harden under my attentions. Running my fingers lightly up her thigh, my smile broadened as her breathing seemed to catch. Lightly biting at the trapped nipple, I began to work my mouth over her breast and up her neck. "Maybe later, okay?"

As my fingers began to work their way inside, her moans as she shifted position to grant me better access were all the answer I needed.

* * *

**1998; Olongapo, Philippines**

"I swear to God, Havoc, if we get out of this alive Bob's going to get a full report on this."

Keying my mike, I shoved Sakamoto against the wall and threw a grenade down the hall. "Did you not hear the part where I told you to quit your fucking whining?"

After the explosion sent bodies flying, I grabbed the girl and dumped her over my shoulder. Sprinting down the hall, I leaped past the cluster of barbecued slavers and kept running. At the end of the hall, I dumped her to the floor. "Sit there and shut up!"

Stepping around her, I pulled out a second pistol and walked around the corner, firing as soon as I was clear. The people I had smelled were running right at me. They dropped like flies. One. Another. A third. Less than thirty seconds later, the entire group of ten had fallen victim to head shots.

Slipping back around the corner, I caught Sakamoto just as she was getting out of the ropes and trying to run away. "I don't think so, bitch."

Whirling on me, she scratched at my eyes. "Who the fuck are you?"

Grabbing her by the hair, I dumped her onto the floor and slammed my knee into her kidney. As she gasped for breath, I tightened the ropes on her wrists and ankles, adding an extra length to her elbows and knees. Tightening everything until I heard her wince in pain, I grinned. "Who I am is none of your fucking business. If it weren't for the fact that I'm being paid to bring you in alive, I'd gladly kill you slowly for what I saw you doing back there. Be grateful for small favors."

Picking her up, I dumped her over my shoulder. Walking through the bodies, I paused for a second inside one of the rooms, and then met my partner by the door. He was pacing in irritation. "What the fuck took you so long?"

"One: Psycho bitch keeps trying to get away. It's going to take a fucking year to heal the scratches and bites she's given me. Two: I took thirty seconds to release the slaves. They can all go wherever the hell they want now."

"Why? That wasn't our mission."

"So I improvised. Anyway, I don't kill innocents."

"Who said anything about..." He caught the expression on my face. "Wait...you didn't..."

"That's three. We have just under two minutes to get the fuck away from here."

"Why?"

Grunting, I shifted Sakamoto to the other shoulder and started to run across the street. "Because I dumped three high-yield grenades under the furnace. When they go, this building's gone."

After dumping the target into the trunk, I dropped into the driver's seat and was already moving before Agent Harold finished climbing into the car. When the building exploded, rocking the ground, we were just one of a hundred cars over a mile away.

* * *

**June 7, 2003; Tokyo, Japan**

A stinging jolt forced me to wake up. "The hell with that, Hav. You owe me a fucking month, and I'll be damned if you sleep before I've made a dent in that debt!"

Blinking the sleep out of my eyes, I laughed as I felt her kissing my chest. "And just how is it you planned on keeping me awake?"

"Oh, I have a few ideas." With a wicked giggle, she slid down to my waist and began to caress me with her tongue. When she felt me stiffening in reaction, she snickered and stopped long enough to shift position.

After she had turned around, I ran my thumbs along her thighs which were facing me. Feeling her pleased shudder, I smiled. Sliding my thumbs into place, I carefully spread her apart and began to flick my tongue in teasing probes.

* * *

**Unknown Date; Los Angeles, California**

I was back. Again. Had I died? There had been a massive pain, unlike anything experienced in my life, and then blackness.

Now? I open my eyes and look around, as much as they allow me to. I'm still strapped to the same table. I smell the coppery scent of my own blood. I'm completely strapped, more securely than before. I smile at the memory. One of the men responsible for this is dead by my hand. I got loose.

The man called Bob escaped. I wanted to kill him. Now he's back. Adjusting his glasses, he looks down at me coldly. Others might see dispassion in his eyes, I don't. Instead, there's the cold fire of the sadist. He enjoys this. The others are doing it for study. He does it for fun.

Sighing deeply, he cleaned his glasses. "I'm afraid, young friend, that these tests are not going to stop just because of a temper tantrum. We're going to continue. Unfortunately, now the test begin to grow both painful and dangerous."

Nodding to one of the others near him, he took out a small needle. "What we have here, Havoc, is concentrated Mamba venom." Slapping at my arm, he brought up a vein and immediately injected it, then stood back.

It was like fire through my veins. The agony was beyond description. My lungs stopped working, my heart stopped beating. My nerves were aflame.

Several agonizing moment later, after slipping into convulsions, I mercifully fell into unconsciousness.

* * *

**June 8, 2003; Tokyo, Japan**

"Wakey, wakey." The sing song voice was accompanied by the feel of electricity tracing down my chest, accompanied by kisses and the occasional lick. When I shook my head and yawned, I glanced down into a glorious tangle of sleep-matted blond hair. Feeling me stir, she looked up and smiled. "I thought you'd want to sleep a bit and regain your strength." With a mischievous grin, she said, "You seemed to be slowing down on me last night."

Closing my eyes, as I felt her explorations continue, I grinned. Grabbing her shoulders, I pulled her into a deep kiss. Tracing my fingers across her breasts, down her stomach and over her thighs, I laughed. Standing up, I shrugged. "Feels like you're ready for another round."

Bending over, I picked her up. Sliding one hand along her thigh, pinching her nipple with the other, I lightly bit her ear. "Let's see if we can break another shower."


	17. Chapter 17: Secrets

**June 8, 2003; Tokyo, Japan**

When Elle and I walked into Kaito's office later that day, Linderman glanced up from the file he was looking through. A broad smile creased his face. "Excellent. I must admit to being most gratified seeing you back on your feet."

Rolling my eyes, I sat in the chair he indicated. "Whatever." Opening the file that had been on the seat, I raised an eyebrow. "What's this?"

Kaito cleared his throat. "It is the information you requested just before you were...taken."

Thumbing through it, I shook my head. "Bull shit." Closing the file and dropping it into my lap, I closed my eyes and rubbed my forehead in frustration. "I asked for the entire damned file, not this sanitized and worthless piece of shit."

Laughing lightly, Linderman closed his own copy. "And what is it you expected to see?"

"What I fucking asked for. Every last word we have regarding Thayer. Every piece of paper about his fucking Kill Squad assignments. I wanted every last damned thing we had on him. I wanted to know his favorite position!"

Grinning broadly, Linderman gestured to the file again. "I believe you'll find that what you have there is far more useful than his sexual proclivities."

Taking the unspoken suggestion, Kaito shifted in his leather seat. "The file in your lap is the field report from a man who was believed to be virtually the only survivor of a Squad in the field working alongside Agent Bernhelm. The operation, codenamed Apophis, took place in the year two-thousand."

Linderman spoke up again. "If you feel there is more information to be gathered elsewhere, all you have to do is ask. First, read the report."

Sinking back into the chair, I glanced over at Elle. When she nodded, I grunted. "Fine." Sipping from the beer I'd brought, I reopened the folder.

Hours later, I shook my head in disbelief. Glancing over I nudged Elle, who had fallen asleep. "Where's my laptop?"

"Probably on the table. Why?"

"Grab it for me? I want to check something."

"Don't bother, my dear." Linderman rose from his seat and walked over to the table. "I believe I have a computer our young friend can use." Pulling out a notebook computer, he handed it to me before sitting back down. "What is it you are looking for?"

Opening the browser, I did a quick search. Laughing, I shut it back down. "That's what I thought." Glancing at the two of them, I shrugged. "Who picked the name?"

Glancing up from what he was doing on the computer, Kaito cleared his throat. "Meaning?"

"Meaning the joker who named the mission knew damn well what was going to happen."

Kaito keyed something into his computer. "The mission name was given by Agent Bernhelm. I assume it's important."

"Christ, Kaito. I'd have thought at least you would have figured it out. Apophis is the Greek form for the Egyptian name Apep. In a nutshell, Apep was a demon who wanted to overthrow Ra." Relaxing into my chair, I rubbed my head. "No wonder he was able to get away with this stunt. He was surrounded by fucking morons with their brains shut off."

Before Linderman or Kaito could object, I picked up the file. "And nobody raised a fucking eyebrow when the mission went pear shaped?" Swearing, I opened it up again. "Christ, everything we've wanted was in this one damned file. Bernhelm led a team to try and stop a group in Cairo from making a nuisance of themselves. Several days after arriving, they encounter the group in question.

"Only something goes wrong. Half the Squad ends up dead, this Richards who filed the report the only one that makes it back, and he's in pretty bad shape. Thayer was one of the members that ended up missing, presumed dead. According to the report a guy who sounds suspiciously like Gregory Tripp was apparently in charge of the group they were after."

Kaito stared at me in silence for several seconds. Finally, "I am not certain I understand."

Rolling my eyes, I grabbed a blank notebook from his desk and began making some notes. "Whatever. Let's make it a bit more obvious." Glancing at Linderman, I asked, "When did Tripp bring in Bernhelm?"

After a moment's thought, Linderman shrugged. "When he manifested at eighteen. Eighty-nine or ninety, I suppose. Why?"

"And Tripp went AWOL in, what, ninety-seven?" When he nodded, I snorted in disgust. "I work for a bunch of fucking idiots. Bernhelm was recruited into Adam's little plot, via Tripp, no later than ninety-four or five."

Elle glanced at the notes I was making and then laughed. "Of course. They spend the next couple years setting things into place, and then Tripp sets Phase One in motion by dropping out of sight. He stays out of sight and starts recruiting and building his own little army.

"The next the Company hears about him is when he raises his head, deliberately, in Cairo. That's the cue for Claus to get out the more important members they've recruited within the Company. Those are the ones listed as missing in the report he filed when the mission 'failed.' They let this Richards guy survive in order to back up the report. Except, of course, the missing members are all working on the second phase of the plan."

Tapping my pen in thought, I shrugged. "Phase One was set up. Tripp vanishes and starts putting things in place. Phase Two was information and recruiting. They extricated the more important members of the conspiracy and began recruiting outside. Bernhelm's departure signaled the beginning of the third and final phase; execution.

"Unfortunately for them, Elle and I were already hunting Tripp. When we took him and the others down, we set them back." A sudden thought hit me. Glancing over at Elle, I asked, "How many did we actually kill there?"

Frowning in thought, she shrugged. "Not sure. Maybe thirty trying to get to him. There weren't more than a dozen with him. So, I guess maybe forty?"

"That's about what I thought. Not enough." At their expressions, I narrowed my in eyes thought. "They're setting up to take the Company down, or at least to take it over. From what Adam told me, and he wasn't lying in this case, the plan was to kill the ones in charge and take over. I assume anybody who was loyal to the dead also joined them. To do that, you need more than a double fistful of soldiers. Hell, it took at least a hundred to fail, twice, at taking out Kaito." Shaking my head, I dropped the notebook. "We got there too late. He'd already shipped most of his people over to wherever they're forted up."

Elle frowned. "Cairo?"

Pulling at my lip in thought, I remembered something. "During my time with Yua's group, Bernhelm called. A couple times they slipped and said he was in Cairo." Glancing at Kaito, I flashed an evil grin. "Doc said the testing was painful for Yua. Is she alive?"

"She is. We were preparing to send her to a Level Five cell in Hartsdale."

"Good. I think it's time she provided a little information." Exchanging a glance with Elle, I let my voice fall dangerously. "And a lot of amusement."

Chuckling quietly, Linderman stood. "It sounds like a plan. However, as it is quite late, perhaps I could interest the two of you in something to eat? There is, as they say, always tomorrow." A glint of something I couldn't quite understand flashed through his eyes. "If I do say so myself, I make a superb pot pie."

* * *

**March 15, 2002; Los Angeles, California**

"Where's Elle?"

Bob sat behind his desk, glancing through a stack of paperwork. Glancing up, he raised an eyebrow. "Why is her location any of your concern?"

Sitting down, I shrugged. "You did partner us. I assumed that meant we were working together from now on."

Rubbing his nose, he partially smiled. "My daughter...let's just say she's not feeling well right now." There was something dark hidden behind his voice. "I'm certain you can handle this mission on your own."

Taking the file he handed me, I flipped through it. "What the...This damn well better be a joke, Bishop."

"I'm afraid not. We have a small problem in White Plains. Apparently someone we have not been watching has manifested. You can see the results in these pictures"

Swearing under my breath, I finished scanning the file. From what the reports were indicating, this manifestation included superhuman strength, agility and reflexes. There were a couple blurry pictures in the file, obviously from a tabloid of some kind. All I could discern was a black costume, probably jeans and a sweater, and what looked like a black ski mask. The target of the photos was clearly twisting through the air.

Laughing, I closed the file. "I'm still missing why this is my problem. We have agents in New York. Christ, have Hartsdale send Noonan. Last thing I fucking need is to piss her off about territory."

"I'm afraid Agent Noonan is unavailable at this time."

"Fine. Do I leave him breathing?"

"He's a threat. Handle it."

* * *

**June 9, 2003; Tokyo, Japan**

"Hello, 'lover'." Grabbing Yua by her hair, I threw her to the ground. Staring at her in disgust, I grinned when she suddenly frowned. "Don't worry. Your little tricks don't work right now. Those pills they've been shoving down your throat? Power blockers. Means you can't do a damn thing anymore."

Pushing herself to a seated position, she glared at me. "What do you want?"

Shrugging, I slammed the toe of my boot into her thigh. "Ultimately, information. Right now?" Smiling, I gestured to Elle. "Right now, I'm just pissed off."

Elle bent over and grabbed Yua's arm. When she released a charge, Yua screamed in agony. With a vicious smile, I bent down and grabbed her face, forcing her to look at me. "That's Elle. She's my partner. She wasn't happy with the way I just vanished that night." Glancing up at her, I shrugged. "Information first? Or fun?"

Shrugging, she pushed her hair out of her face. "Information, I guess."

With a shrug, I grabbed Yua and threw her onto the bed. "Works for me." Grabbing her breast, I began to squeeze. Once she gasped in pain, I smiled again. "You're going to tell us everything we want to know."

"F...fuck you!"

Smiling, I clenched my fist harder for just a second and then ripped the shirt off, scraping the tender flesh of her breast as I did so. "Been there, done that. Along with damn near every other man on the planet, I'm sure."

Violently, I ripped off the pants and underwear she had been wearing, dumping her, naked, to the bed. With a vicious set to her head, and a blood thirsty grin, Elle walked over and shoved a small metal rod into her vagina. After releasing a carefully measured pulse through the rod, she laughed when Yua arched backwards with a shriek of agony. Resting my arm on Elle's shoulders, I smirked when she finally quit screaming. "This is just going to get worse." Pulling out a knife, I dug it into her breast, just deep enough to draw blood, and dragged it down and over her stomach. "Much worse."

Hours later, leaving behind a smoking, bloody mess that had once been Yua Nakano, we headed to Kaito's office. When we entered, he was conferring with Linderman. Looking up, he gestured to the chairs nearby. "What is it?"

Sitting down, I rubbed at my palm. "They kept me in a warehouse in Chiba. The building is under the name Ten'yo Industries. I think we need to pay them a visit."

Looking over at us, Linderman rubbed at his beard. "Are you certain of this?"

"Absolutely. After what we put her through, she'd have told us anything. She was barely able to speak a coherent sentence; certainly incapable of lying."

After frowning in concentration for several seconds, Kaito nodded. "What will you need?"

* * *

**March 16, 2002; Hartsdale, New York**

"To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Fuck off, Angela. I'm just after some tools."

Inclining her head toward me, she relaxed into her chair. With a slight smile, she adjusted her dress. "And why is that?"

Rolling my eyes, I ground my teeth. "Because you have a problem in White Plains, and Bob sent me to take care of it."

An oddly confused expression crossed her face, followed by a look of profound distaste. "White Plains? I see. And did Robert tell you who you were going after?"

"No. He told me it was basically a random manifestation. A couple blurry photos are the only thing I have. Why?"

"I assume Robert wishes you to eliminate this person?"

"Is there a problem with that?"

"Not normally. This time, however, you will not go for the kill."

Shaking my head, I turned to go. "You know better than that, Angela. I answer to Bob. You don't have the authority to change those orders."

"True. However, regardless what Robert may believe, you answer to the Company, not to any specific member." Rising to her feet, she smoothed her dark dress. "I'll have what you'll need brought up."

"Why don't you want this guy dead?"

Pausing by the door, she turned around to face me. A thoughtful frown creased her face. "How are your dreams lately?"

"My dreams? What the...why the fuck does it matter?"

"Anything unusual in them? Something that never happened, but feels like a memory?"

Narrowing my eyes, I shook my head slightly. "How the fuck did you know about that?"

A calculating smile flitted across her still lips. "You would be surprised what I know." Turning to leave, she said, "The answer to your question lies in those dreams." And then she vanished, leaving me alone to puzzle through what she had said.

* * *

**June 10, 2003; Chiba, Japan**

Sneaking in wasn't an option. We didn't have the time. Keying my radio, I told Elle and the dozen Kill Squad members, "Lightning strike. If you can't subdue them immediately, I want them dead. Grab anything not nailed down. In and out in twenty. Go!"

Slamming into the nearest door, I went in solo. Elle entered from the opposite side of the building, also solo. The Squad members came in pairs through other openings. With a feral snarl, I pulled my pistols.

The room I entered had been chosen deliberately. I knew there were people, targets, inside. I didn't waste time with words. A primal scream erupted as I pulled the triggers. Seconds later, all but two were dead. Those two had been deliberately shot in the knees, slamming them to the ground. With a vicious grin, I slammed the butt of my pistol into their heads, smashing them into unconsciousness. Pulling out the plastic ties, I bound their wrists and ankles.

Dumping them to the side, I headed for the door. Ducking outside, I moved to the next room down. One at a time, I cleared my entire section of the building. By the time I was finished, I had four more men and women for interrogation, all with painful but non-lethal injuries. The others I had encountered were dead.

As I was turning to begin stringing the detcord to the charges I had planted in the hall, I encountered one of my tormentors. I'd never learned his name, but the others had called him Niko. He'd frequently found excuses to burn or beat me while I was controlled by Yua. I had despaired of finding him. With a vicious grin, I crouched. "Hello, Niko."

Blinking in disbelief, a slow smile creased his chiseled face. It was a brutal smile, filled with contempt and sadism. "Yua's pet. So, you returned. And where is your mistress, your protector, hiding?"

Licking my lips, I flexed my hands and began to circle. "Yua? Odd; I was under the impression you were the one being protected." Laughing as I sidestepped an impulsive lunge, I shrugged. "She's dead."

Snarling, he spun and tried to attack me again. Dodging, I smacked him in the back of the head. "You thought it was fun to play games with me when I couldn't fight back, Niko. Let's see how you like it."

Before he had a chance to react, I snapped his arm like a twig and smashed him into the wall. While he was still dazed and screaming, I grabbed the unbroken arm and bent it behind his back until I heard it crack. At his fresh screams, I laughed. Dropping him to the floor, I pulled out one of the binding ties and bound his broken arms behind him.

With him still screaming in agony due to the arms, I slammed the heel of my boot into both kneecaps, listening to the crushing of the bone with pleasure. Bending down, I bound his ankles together and, with a final sadistic enjoyment, wrenched him around until I could tie the two bindings together. Then I looped a length of detcord around his throat.

Once everybody and everything had been loaded into the vans, I gave orders. "You know the drill. Gas the cargo. Should keep them quiet until we get back. How many'd we get?"

The Squad members talked for a couple minutes before the Captain answered. "Looks like twenty."

"Good. When we get back, dump 'em all into one cell. Give it a couple hours to shake out. Then split them into separate cells, two in each. One higher ranking and one lower. Cut off the right middle finger for the higher ranking. Elle and I'll handle interrogations tomorrow. Clear?" When they all nodded, I bent down and started the timer. "Good. We have ten minutes to get clear of the site. Let's roll."

We were several miles away when the night exploded into thunder and flame.

* * *

**March 17, 2002; White Plains, New York**

"Christ, this bitch can move." I was swearing under my breath, trying to keep the target in sight. She was able to move across the buildings, much in the manner of a human spider, while I was required to run along the ground, better than a dozen yards behind.

It hadn't been easy locating her. I'd finally settled for using the police scanner. When the call had come across that a robbery had been interrupted by an unknown agent, I laughed and went to the scene. It was there I caught my target's scent. The first surprise was that the target was a woman. The second was that I found the scent oddly familiar, but couldn't place it.

I'd followed the scent across town, but it had only been movement barely spotted from the corner of my eye that alerted me. Movement that nobody else would have spotted. High above, and most of a block away, there was a black shape rapidly spidering across a building. Shaking my head, I smiled and began following.

That had been several hours ago. I'd moved as rapidly as possible at ground level, watching in awe as the shape moved across glass, brick, steel and stone with equal efficiency. When forward movement seemed impossible, she performed a beautifully twisting leap across the street, ending up clinging to a building that allowed her to keep moving.

I caught the slight hint of electronics from her scent, telling me how she knew where her help was needed. She found crime the same way I found her, monitoring police and other emergency bands. Suddenly, she slipped around a corner. Seconds later, I rounded the same corner and began to scan the walls for her. She was gone.

Moving slowly down the alley, I tried to relocate her. Scanning with every sense I had, I muttered, "All right, damn it, where the fuck are you?"

A sound behind me nearly caused me to lose my skin. Before I could turn, a dark, silky, voice, as ephemerally familiar as the scent, stopped me. "Don't move, Mister. I don't like to kill, but I'm not afraid to. Why are you following me?"

Holding my hands loosely at my sides, I laughed. "I wanted to see the Spider-Woman myself."

"Is that what they're calling me? I know some photos have come out. I prefer Tarantula myself."

Growling, I asked, "Is that what this is to you? A fucking game?" Spinning, I launched the dart I'd shaken out of my sleeve into her stomach. "Your little exhibitionism is endagering all of us, bitch!"

As she collapsed to the ground, I crossed the distance and caught her. Pulling her out of sight, I grabbed her mask and pulled it off. I noticed two things almost simultaneously. The first was that I recognized this woman. I couldn't figure out how or where, but I knew her. Whispering in surprise, I said, "Maddie?"

The second was that I had been lied to. Not only had the Company obviously been aware of her manifestation, the marks on her neck told me she had already been tagged.

* * *

**June 11, 2003; Tokyo, Japan**

The next day started early. Elle zapped me awake shortly after 6 in the morning. After a shared shower, little of which involved getting clean, and a quick breakfast, we began interrogations.

We made it to the first interrogation shortly after 8. Not counting the hour we took for lunch, the interrogations lasted until well after 10 that night. Every interrogation was different, but started the same. Neither of us were much interested in playing Good Cop, so we'd ask the prisoner with all ten fingers a few pointless questions. Regardless the answers he gave, we killed him in front of his cell-mate. Sometimes I'd slice his throat, other times smash his skull into the wall, and still other times Elle would hit him with a full blast to the head.

It was always bloody, and it always made an impression. When combined with our standard, albeit brutal, interrogation techniques, we learned plenty in the ensuing hours. By the time we finally put the screaming wrecks out of their misery, we had extracted every last piece of information they had.

The final interrogation of the night was the one with the most crucial piece of information. He barely looked human by the time we finished. Between Elle and myself, the only limb he had intact was his right leg. We'd been working on him for most of two hours. Long enough, certainly, for him to discover an entirely new definition of pain.

He only gave us the important information when Elle grew irritated and burned the remaining leg slowly from his crotch down. Once he finished vomiting from the agony, he was more than willing to finish divulging what he knew. Finally, I drove my blade through his skull, ending his misery only after we had learned everything possible.

* * *

**March 17, 2002; Hartsdale, New York**

"Yes. Her name is Madeline Williams, although she seems to prefer being called Maddie. She was brought in approximately ten years ago. She was a member of a small group of people, barely more than children, who had been isolated and forced to survive on a small collective. Most of the others were rehabilitated and returned to their proper homes. She was identified during the reeducation process, and was asked to remain."

Laughing in disbelief, I shook my head. "Asked?"

"Yes." Looking through the glass at the unconscious woman laying on the bed in the cell, she pursed her lips. "One so recently enslaved would have reacted negatively to the Company's usual methods."

Ignoring the euphemism, I laid my hand on the glass. "I know her. I don't know why, but I recognize her. How?"

Turning to face me, she stared thoughtfully through calculating eyes. "If you can't answer that question on your own, you're not ready for any answer I could give. Suffice it to say Robert was well aware of all the facts when he sent you on this mission."

"Even that she had been allowed to run free?"

Frowning in disgust, she led me from the minimum security level. "His was the deciding voice."

"He knew all this, and sent me to kill her anyway? Why?"

I could hear the lie in her voice when she said, "I'm not certain."

* * *

**June 12, 2003; Tokyo, Japan**

We met with Linderman and Kaito in the morning. The decision was made for us to leave for Cairo over the weekend. The rest of the day was our own. Elle grabbed her credit card and went shopping. I bought a couple items, but spent several hours in the gym.

Elle came into the quarters just as I finished my shower. "Have fun?"

Her laugh told me everything. One of the few things she had in common with normal women was her passion for shopping. Shaking my head in amusement, I eyed the bags. "What'd you pick up?"

Walking over to me, she pulled me into an electric kiss. Breaking it off, she started to strip for the shower. "Nothing you need to see right now." Grabbing the smallest bag, she disappeared into the bath.

While she was gone, I made some preparations of my own and grabbed a bite to eat. An hour later, I heard the door to the bath open. Turning around, I almost choked on the beer I was sipping. She stood framed in the doorway, an impish smile on her face.

Instead of a bra and panties, she wore whipped cream. She had cherries covering her nipples. In one hand she held a small bottle of chocolate syrup. And a strawberry nestled into a very interesting spot.

Laughing, I walked over and took the syrup. "Well, this shoots my plan to hell."

"And that plan was?"

Stripping off the shorts and tank top I was wearing, I led her over to the bed. Reaching under the pillow, I pulled out the vibrator I'd planned on using on her.

Coming over, she began to stroke me. "That's all right. After we get each other clean, you can use it." Pushing me to the bed, she gasped as my tongue began to clean the whipped cream from her breasts, drawing the cherries into my mouth and licking the juice from her hardened nipples.

After I had wiped the cream from her thighs, my tongue teased her clit before curling around the strawberry and pulling it into my mouth. I felt her tighten as she moaned and forced my tongue further into her. Seconds later, she released a violent scream and bathed my tongue and lips.

Panting, she pulled off me. Taking the chocolate that had fallen to the bed, she smiled. "I'm in the mood for a chocolate covered banana." As she began to put the chocolate in place, I closed my eyes and licked the last of the whipped cream and juice from my lips.


	18. Chapter 18: What Gods These Mortals Be

**June 16, 2003; Cairo, Egypt**

"We'll be on the ground in fifteen minutes."

Slapping at the intercom button with my free arm, I grunted. "Is Gordon still meeting us?"

"Radio contact says he'll be waiting when the two of you disembark."

"Got it." Slapping the intercom off, I ran my other hand along Elle's spine. With a shudder, she pressed closer and began to trace her fingertips over my thighs, leaving just the slightest trickle of electricity behind. Laughing, I swatted her on the ass and sat up. A sharp hiss accompanied my wince as the still healing burn stuck to the sheets.

Scratching at the flesh around the wound, I swore. "Christ, Elle. Bites and scratches are fine, and your sparks can be a lot of fun, but did you have to try and leave permanent fingerprints in the bone?."

Sitting up, she pouted as she began to massage her calves and thighs. "Sorry. Didn't mean to."

"Nothing that won't heal in another couple hours." Looking over to where she was now standing, stretching her legs while deliberately giving me a full view, I laughed. "How're the legs?"

Laughing, she arched backwards, popping her back as she did so. "They'll be fine once I start moving around."

Shaking my head, I grabbed clothes and walked into the bathroom. "Next time, remember that you don't bend that way."

Slipping in behind me, she turned on the shower and stepped in. "I didn't hear you complaining last night."

"That's because you were screaming like a banshee." Stepping into the small shower with her, I winced as soap and water splashed across the burn.

Scrubbing my back, carefully avoiding the burn, Elle giggled. "I'm surprised we didn't crash the plane."

"Or get company. The pilot wanted to plant it in your cockpit when we got on board."

Turning to let me scrub her back in return, she pressed back against me. "That's okay, the copilot was checking you out." She laughed when I choked. "What? You didn't realize he was gay?"

Rubbing against me, she reached down. "How long until we land?"

Putting the soap away, I whispered, "Another ten minutes, I guess."

Turning, she brought my hands under her for support and wrapped her legs around me. "Time enough."

Ten minutes later we dressed, packed out bags, and waited for the plane to stop. Elle had chosen a tan skirt, a couple inches above the knee, a loose, off-white blouse, and a pair of short heeled shoes matching the skirt. She had tied her hair into a loose ponytail, and was lightly chewing on the bow of her sunglasses. My concession to the desert was simpler. Khaki cargo pants and tan Western-cut boots in place of my usual black jeans and heavy combat boots. Instead of the utilitarian black tee I customarily wore, I wore a pale blue polo. My black duster was rolled up in my bag.

When the copilot opened the hatch, I followed Elle down the stairs, carrying both bags. Looking around, I felt my body beginning to tense as my eyes narrowed in suspicion. Elle was staring in confusion. "Hav? Wasn't your guy supposed to meet us here?"

Setting the bags down, I turned and scanned the field, letting one hand graze her hip in a silent danger signal. Immediately understanding, she crouched slightly and clawed her hands. As she turned to face the opposite direction the scent of burning ozone built as she called forth her ability.

Scanning my section of the field with each of my enhanced senses, I heard the limousine before it pulled onto the tarmac. In disbelief, I watched it pull onto the center of the strip. Focusing, I saw the rear window lower as a large barrel, apparently from some sort of rocket launcher, appeared.

Swearing under my breath, I spun and grabbed the bags. Dumping Elle over one shoulder, I sprinted to the side of the runway. Tossing her over the fence, I nodded in satisfaction when she tucked into a roll when she landed. The bags followed,

Then I jumped. Right when I grabbed the top of the fence, in an attempt to turn it into a controlled flip, the jet exploded. The concussive blast hit me only an instant before the heat. My clothes caught flame and my back started to char as I was sent flying through the air. With a scream of agony, I slammed into the sand several feet further. Rolling over, I looked up just as a flaming piece of wreckage slashed through my stomach and pinned me to the ground.

Roaring with pain, I fell into unconsciousness.

* * *

**Unknown Date; Unknown Location**

The sunset had been beautiful. Together we put away our tools in a ritual now several years old. It was the best time of the year for working outside; neither too hot nor too cold. The chores were over, but the worst part of my day was next.

Sitting in one of the normally abandoned rooms was a plain wooden chair. It was stupid and ceremonial, but I took my place in the chair, and cleared my throat. "Let's get it over with."

We had made this arrangement shortly after The Freeing. When discipline broke down, I would hold court that night. A dark haired girl, the youngest of the Freed, was led into the room by the other girls. The most recent addition, she had been with us for less than a month before I turned Master into Meat. Unlike the rest of us, her name had not been beaten from her. A month after The Freeing, she looked up and smiled after the evening meal. "I'm Maddie."

Tonight, she was the accuser.

Led by the other two boys was the accused. A bitter, resentful boy known among us as Kent. The youngest of the boys, he had been a Dog considerably longer than she had been a Bitch. After we had begun recovering, he had been loudly upset about my leadership.

With a sigh, I waved Maddie forward. "Go ahead."

Stepping out from the group, she pushed her hair out of her face. "After midday meal I went outside to find Ricky."

"I assume he was your choice for tonight?" The peculiar mix of our group, four boys and a dozen girls, made certain rules regarding sex necessary. The girls, with the exception of the week they spent bleeding, had sex once or twice a week, more if they really wanted to. Each girl picked a partner of their preference, with the simple requirement that each of the four boy was partnered at least once per week.

Smiling shyly, she nodded. "I wasn't sure where he was, so I stopped to ask Kent." Frowning, she pointed to a pair of bruises on her breast and another pair on her arm. "He gave me these when he grabbed me and tried to force me to choose him."

"Liar!" Whipping my head around in shock, I stared at him. His face was twisted in fury, and he stood there nearly spitting.

Before he could say anything else, I barked, "Shut up! Once she's done, you get to talk. You know the damned rules!" Ignoring him, I motioned to Maddie. "Continue."

"He stuck his fingers into me and tried to force me, like Master used to." Tears stood in her eyes, the shame of what the Master had done to his female slaves still fresh in her mind, even this long after. "I hit him and started to scream. A couple of the girls heard me and came over."

Nodding, I looked over at Kent. "Go ahead."

Spitting, he crossed his arms over his chest. "I don't have to say a damn thing. The cunt's lying!"

Closing my eyes, I swore under my breath. "No defense at all? Did you attack her?"

"I grabbed her arm."

"And the other bruises? The attack?"

"I did nothing!"

Shaking my head, I closed my eyes for a minute. I had learned that I could usually sense when someone was lying. It had helped me before, maybe it would this time. Finally, I opened my eyes. Looking at the others, I asked, "Did anyone see what happened?"

Everybody shook their heads, but one of the girls, known as Grace, stepped up beside Maddie. "I was one of the two that found Maddie screaming. Kent's fingers were wet, and he was yelling at her."

Nodding, I looked at Maddie and then at Kent. I muttered, "Damn it." Licking my lips, I turned my gaze to Kent. "You're lying." Thinking quickly, I stood. "You know the rules, Kent. Twenty-"

"Who fucking died and made you boss? I don't accept your authority!"

The others moved between us, but I waved them off. "Who died?" Standing, waiting for the attack I knew was coming, I shrugged. "Remember the Master? The one who locked us in cages like animals? Used us for sport? He's the one that died, Kent. While the rest of you had been cowed, turned practically into the animals he tried to convince us we were, I was able to kill him."

I sidestepped a clumsy lunge. I may not have been a trained fighter, but I had been the Master's prize in the Dog Fights. "And the rules, Kent, were decided on by all of us. They're to keep us safe and united. You know that as well as anyone."

He charged me again. This time I stepped into the charge and planted a fist in his stomach. When he doubled over, gasping, I drove the other fist into the small of his back. As he fell to his knees, I grabbed the back of his neck and threw him across the room.

Standing over him, I massaged my hand. "Twenty lashes for attack on Maddie. Also, you will not be chosen to companion any of the women for four weeks starting today." After a second's thought, I said, "For the attack on me, you will receive and additional ten lashes and will do your work and hers for the next week."

Turning to Maddie, I shrugged. "You're dismissed from your personal chores during that time. Help the others."

Swearing, I shrugged and nodded at the other two boys. "Bring him in and chain him to the wall. I'll deal with it from there."

* * *

**June 16, 2003; Cairo, Egypt**

A burning pain in my chest and side brought me back to consciousness. Gasping, I opened my eyes into blackness. As they focused, I realized that night had fallen. "How...long?"

"Finally!" Coming over to me, Elle laid a hand on my shoulder. "I had to drag your ass into this fucking sand cave alone. Do you realize how much you fucking weigh? Especially with that piece of shit stuck in you?"

Glancing at my stomach, I was confused. "I thought it was bigger?" I remembered the burning metal arching toward me with a shudder.

"It was. I had to burn a huge chunk of it off just to move you. I couldn't get a grip to get it out."

Sitting up, I grimaced as I felt the sand sticking to the multiple injuries and still healing burns. "Shit. How long was I out?" Reaching my hand down, I grasped the jagged, melted edge of the metal.

"Hours. I'm not really sure."

"I was afraid of that." With a roar, I ripped the metal out of the wound. "Burn me, damn it!" When she hesitated, I swore. "Cauterize the fucking wound. We need me mobile. I can't bleed to death right now!"

Another throat tearing scream emerged as she rushed to burn the wound closed. Sweating and trembling, I collapsed to the ground. "Jesus! If I never have to got through that again, it'll be too fucking soon."

Panting, I struggled to sit up. "Did you get the bags?"

Shrugging, she frowned. "Couldn't. I did take time to bury them though. I grabbed the binoculars, and nobody came looking for us, so they should still be there."

Closing my eyes, I grunted. "Give me an hour. Then we go to get them." Relaxing against the wall, growling under my breath as I felt the stone and sand grate at my exposed back. "We need the weapons in them, and I need a change of clothes."

* * *

**June 18, 2003; Cairo, Egypt**

By the end of that night, I had healed enough to be mobile. The clothing we had worn off the plane was destroyed, so we had to change. Carefully, only in part because of my still healing injuries, we edged into town and booked a motel room. Once there, we began looking for my contact; Gordon Hannah.

I spent most of that day in the room, waiting impatiently for the worst of the wounds to heal enough that the blood wouldn't soak through my clothing. By the time the day was over, the worst of the wounds had healed to the point where I could at least move without tearing them open. The superficial wounds were completely healed, and the others were following at a slower pace. I'd almost never been wounded this badly before, so I had no clue how long full healing would take.

Today, though, I was able to move around town inconspicuously. I kept a couple smaller, still open, wounds bandaged and had to wear loose clothing, but I was able to move relatively unimpeded. It was needed. Using the currency the underworld knew best, cash and violence, we tracked down information. Anything about Gordon. Anything about the airfield explosion. Anything about Elle and I coming.

At the end of the day, we met in the motel and compared notes. I lay face down on the bed, wearing only a pair of loose shorts, to allow the still healing wounds to breathe. Elle was wearing a loose tee and shorts in a nearby chair. Glancing at me, she smiled. "Tomorrow then?"

Scratching at one of the freshly healed burns, I swore as it tore open again. "Yeah. The order to kill us apparently came from the same spot one of my guys said Gordon's hiding." Flashing a tight grin, I looked over at her. "I can't wait to get hold of that little bastard."

Elle started to say something but was interrupted by a quiet knock on the door. Exchanging a suspicious look with Elle, I grabbed a blade and went to the door. Opening it, I found myself confronted by a short, ancient man. Bowing quickly, he spoke in a crisp but cracked voice. "I beg your pardon, Son of Bast, for this intrusion. But I must speak with you."

Blinking in confusion, I stepped aside and let him in. When he spotted Elle, his eyes widened and he bowed again. "Daughter of Set, as beautiful as you are powerful, permit your humble servant to greet you."

Grabbing a loose shirt, I began to pull it on. The rawness of my back caught our guest's attention. "You have been wounded? Allow me, my lord."

Resting a hand on my stomach, he closed his eyes. Almost immediately, a warmth suffused me. Seconds later, I felt almost reborn. Walking into the bathroom, I stripped off the shorts and stared into the mirror in stunned amazement. I was completely healed. This odd man held an ability stronger than any I had encountered, but there were no isotope marks. How had he gone undetected?

Sliding back into my shorts, I pulled on the shirt and walked back out. Elle was completely stumped by what was going on, as was I. Pulling out a pair of chairs, I offered him a seat. "Why don't you go ahead and tell us what's going on here."

"As you are undoubtedly aware, the Servant of the Dark Lord has returned."

Blinking, I had to think quickly. "The...Dark Lord? Do you mean Apep?"

His wizened face paled and his breath caught for just a second. "You have named him, Son of Bast."

Elle recovered first. "You're going to need to fill us in a little. We came here following someone, but this is the first we've heard about this servant of the Dark Lord."

Frowning, he looked from her to me and back again before nodding. "As you wish, Daughter of Set. You may call me Akhenaton. I am a member of the Council Of Hathor." Opening his shirt, he revealed the Eye of Horus suspended over his chest by a silver chain. "The ancient Gods founded our order, granting us many powers, to keep a watch for the return of the Serpent.

"Five years ago, the the Dark Lord's Ankh resurfaced. The Dark Lord's followers began to openly carry the mark branded into their shoulder."

Leaning forward, I narrowed my eyes. A physical mark would make the search much easier. "This mark, the Ankh, can you describe it?"

"I came prepared, my lord." Pulling a piece of paper from his breast pocket, he unfolded it and handed it to me. Staring at it in shock, I shook my head and handed it to Elle.

The symbol was the traditional ankh, with the exception of the loop, which was comprised of the body of a snake. The tail twined down the vertical beam, ending at the same point. The head crossed over the front of the ankh, and ended in a hissing head. Inside the hoop was the symbol of Kensei. "You said this symbol surfaced about five years ago?"

"Resurfaced, my lord. A man unlike any we had seen before appeared on our streets. He could speak to and command our animals. Even the asp heeded his voice. He sought those of like mind; the scourges of society. They formed a group given to the Dark Lord. They began to wait and to watch for the coming of the Servant.

"At that time one of our number, a Seer, beyond any that have ever existed before this time within the Council, looked into the future. She foresaw the coming of a warrior Son of Bast, imbued of her totem and a glorious Daughter of Set, wielding within her heart and hands the power and fury of the storm. She saw that the Scions would join in battle against the Servant, even as the gods from whence they came once joined in battle against the Dark Lord."

Frowning in thought, Elle asked the question that had been plaguing me. "How did you find us?"

"One of our number was to meet you at the private field where you landed. The Seer saw where and approximately when you would arrive, my lady, but he arrived too late. Your jet had already been destroyed by the minions of the Servant. We despaired, until we learned that someone had been asking questions about the attack. She sent me to find you."

Scratching at my arm, I shook my head in disbelief. An entire group of people who had manifested, but been completely unknown to the Company. "What did this...Seer...want?"

"She wishes to meet you, Son and Daughter. There are warnings and advice she wishes to give to you, based on visions she has not yet explained to the Council at large."

Closing my eyes thoughtfully, I was quiet for several minutes, trying to decide what to do. Making a decision, I nodded shortly. "Can you take us to meet this Seer tomorrow?"

Smiling, he stood. "My lord, my lady. I will meet you outside your chambers at noon. You have much to discuss, I am sure." After a quick bow to each of us, he vanished through the door.

Elle stared at the door in silence for several minutes before turning to me. "And just why are we meeting with these fucking space cases tomorrow?"

"Several reasons actually." Pulling up the browser on my laptop, I did a quick search. "First, in the midst of all the superstitious religious crap, he knew what we were."

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"He said I was the Son of Bast, right? Her totem was the cat, and she was allegedly a warrior goddess. On top of that, some legends hint that she could not be killed in battle, and that she could even heal mortal wounds. Any of that sound familiar?

"And he called you, what, the Daughter of Set? At his worst, before the legends were rewritten, Set was a 'morally gray' god equal in power to Ra. One of the things he was most known for was his control of storms, specifically of lightning."

Turning off the computer, I pulled out the notes I had made the other day in Kaito's office. "That Ankh thing showed up within a year of Tripp going AWOL, didn't it?" When she nodded, I grinned. "And this herald character the geezer described sounds suspiciously like Tripp. And I'm sure you noticed the Kensei symbol hiding in the Apep Ankh."

"So...you think maybe they actually know something we'll need?"

"Combine that with the old adage about the enemy of my enemy. If nothing else, we'll gain a little information."

Smiling suddenly, she stood up and walked over to me. Straddling my lap, she lifted off my shirt. Tracing her fingertips down my chest, she smiled. "Wasn't this Bast supposed to be a highly sensual goddess?"

Pressing my lips against the base of her throat, I ran my hands under her shirt. "Something like that."

Letting me remove her shirt, she arched back as I massaged her breasts. Pushing me back onto the bed, she slid my shorts down, and let me do the same with hers. Taking my hand, she licked and bit two fingers before guiding my hand to her thighs. Gasping as the fingers slid inside, she moaned, "Prove it."

* * *

**June 19, 2003; Cairo, Egypt**

After a shower and an early lunch, we were prepared for the knock on our door. Glancing at the clock, I laughed. Precisely noon. Opening the door, I brought Akhenaton inside. "We're almost ready. Give us five minutes."

"Yes, my lord."

Turning away, I started strapping several knives and guns into hidden locations. "Listen. That 'my lord' and 'my lady' you've been using, and the 'Son of Bast' and 'Daughter of Set', is conspicuous. In private, or when we're around your Council, it's fine." After a quick glance at Elle, I shrugged, "When we're in public, though, we'd prefer you to use names that won't get quite so much attention."

"Of course, my lord. What names would yourself and the Daughter prefer to have used in public?"

The aliases under which we had originally meant to book a room were finally going to be useful. "Call me Lucien, and refer to the Daughter as Veronica."

"As you wish, Son of Bast."

Sliding the last blade into place, I nodded at Elle. "Let's go."

Outside, he rapidly led us through the back streets and alleys as we wound our way through the city. Eventually, well after leaving the motel, we were walking among an abandoned set of buildings along the Nile. Taking a long pull from the water I'd carried with us, I looked over at Akhenaton. "Just how much further is this place?"

"Another kilometer or so, my l...Lucien." At the last second, he remembered the alias. "We are out of the city, but must go further still to reach the Council."

Rolling her eyes, Elle took the offered drink. "Christ. Never thought I'd be grateful for water."

As she was handing it back, the air seemed to shimmer around us. Suddenly, Elle and I were alone. Looking around in confusion, I dropped to a crouch and pulled out a gun and knife. Elle spun around, hands crackling with electricity. She called for Akhenaton, but there was no answer.

We were no longer among the buildings. Instead, we had somehow been teleported into the middle of the desert. Closing my eyes, I used my nose and ears to try and figure out what was happening. Despite my unvoiced wish, this was no illusion.

"Hav? What's going on?"

The fear in her voice worried me more than anything else. Elle was many things, but subject to fear was not one of them. "I don't know. Whatever it is, I think we're in trouble. Keep your eyes open."

No sun. No clouds. Not the faintest hint of breeze. Nothing present to tell us where we were, or in which direction the city lay. Taking a guess, I began to lead Elle through the sand, hunting for anything to tell us where to go.

"So this is who my former bosses sent to find me."

Spinning, I heard Elle's voice gasp. The scent, remembered from months before in the Texas Primatech facility, confirmed what my eyes told me. "Bernhelm. We weren't sent to find you. We were sent to kill you."

"Of course." Grinning, he walked toward us. "Perhaps I could persuade you to join me? The hunter known as Havoc, and the lovely daughter of Robert, would make strong additions to the group I am building. A group I will lead to overturn the leadership of the Company."

Narrowing my eyes, I whipped the pistol up and pulled the trigger twice. Elle took the signal and raised both hands, blasting him with every ounce of power she could muster. Bernhelm flew back under the onslaught. As Elle continued to blast him, I unloaded my weapon. Dropping it, I pulled another and continued the assault.

After several minutes, Elle was forced to stop, to rest, and every pistol I had brought with me was empty. Signaling her to stay in place, I drew my blades and started to sprint toward the smoking hole we had pounded him into.

Before I reached him, however, I was blasted through the air. Clawing his way out of the hole in the dessert, Claus had gained several body sizes. The blast that had caught me was similar to, but different from, Elle's power.

Screaming her name, I twisted into a roll as I landed. Elle and Claus began to exchange blows, more often than not using their own lightning to intercept a blast from the other. Coming out of the roll with a feral snarl, I snapped my shoulder back into place and grabbed another pair of blades. Sprinting around the action, I waited until I was absolutely certain he couldn't see me, and then leapt.

The blades snapped. Without even denting his skin, they broke at the hilts. Bouncing from his iron hide, I landed on the sand, staring at the empty hilts in horror. I looked up just in time to see him swiping down with one suddenly massive hand.

Then I was flying through the air yet again, this time with only one arm. Roaring in agony, I felt the sizzle as my flight was aided by the power of his altered electricity. Twisting in midair, I watched in horror as the blast from his other hand divided along his fingers, snaking past Elle's blocking blasts.

The divided trails wound their way up Elle's body, burning her legs, torso, and breasts. As she fell, screaming from the pain, the tracers slammed into her head. Seconds later, it exploded.

Slamming into the ground, I ran over to her body. With a primal shriek, I drew one more blade in my remaining arm and sprinted toward Bernhelm, who was laughing with an almost manic glee at the carnage he had wrought. With no thought aside from blood, I charged.

Straight into the killing blast.


	19. Chapter 19: The Board Is Set

**June 19, 2003; Cairo, Egypt**

Pushing up from the ground, I blinked around in confusion. Rubbing my eyes, I rose to my knees and checked for any injuries. Not only was my arm in place, I appeared to be completely unharmed. Hearing a slight moan, I darted a glance to the side. Elle had pushed to her knees and was running her hands along her body, obviously feeling for burns or bruises. Opening her gray eyes, she directed a gaze of worry mixed with confusion at me.

"My lord, my lady, are you all right?"

Before Akhenaton could say anything else, I had jumped to my feet and grabbed him by the throat. The other hand held a gun, with the barrel pressing against the bone just over his right eye. "Give me one fucking reason not to blow your God damned brains out!"

"Because it was not his doing, Son of Bast. It was mine."

Dropping him, I spun toward the sound. Pointing one weapon at the blank nothing from which the voice came, I drew the other and looked around wildly. Suddenly, with an indescribable effect that nonetheless impacted on all my senses, they were there. Another man and two more women.

The oldest of the women spoke again. "Akhenaton knew nothing of this, Son of Bast."

Elle shook her head in astonishment. "Why didn't you tell me we had company, Hav?"

"Because I didn't fucking know!" Staring down the barrel at the woman, I snarled, "Start talking. How the fuck did you manage to keep hidden? Especially from me?"

Gesturing to the man next to her, she said, "This is Amahté. The gods have granted him a power over all senses. It is with his gift that we remained masked."

Lowering my weapons slightly, I asked, "What about that weird shit that just happened?"

Smiling slightly, she nodded. "I apologize for that. It was a combination of gifts that shall be explained. However, this is neither the time nor the place. We have much to discuss, but it should not take place in the open where the minions of the Servant can see and hear." Turning, she looked to the younger woman. "Paniwi, bring us to the hidden chambers."

The woman, Paniwi, nodded and lowered her head. Seconds later there was a wrenching sensation in my stomach, followed by a rushing sound in my ears. The world blanked out for a microsecond that stretched to an eternity. The only sensation I was aware of was a bone-numbing chill.

And then it was over. Gone was the Nile that had been nearby. Gone was the apparently abandoned storage facility we had been in. We were now in a completely enclosed hall. No doors. No windows. The older woman nodded and sat down, carefully folding her pale dress around her.

Once we had all been seated, she relaxed. "We are safe here. The only way to enter is through Paniwi's gift. We can speak freely."

"Great. Let's start with who the fuck are you?" Elle's temper, never completely controlled during this time of month, had not been helped by the odd vision and uncomfortable mode of teleportation.

"All shall be explained, Daughter of Set." Folding her hands in her lap, she looked around the room. "Akhenaton spoke of the Council of Hathor?" At our nods, she smiled. "Within the Council those gifted with the Sight stand central. In this generation, the gods saw fit to grant it to me."

"So you're the Seer he was talking about?" Elle's patience was running thin. I hoped this woman moved things to the point fairly soon, because so was mine.

"I am. The name I took upon receiving the gift is Woserit."

Raising an eyebrow, I laughed. "The name you took?"

Smiling softly, she nodded. "Of course. Everyone comes to the Council with a modern name. Most retain that name until they die. The select few whom the gods see fit to gift with power have long held a tradition of choosing one of the ancient names."

Shrugging, I shot Elle a warning glance. "Fine. What was the deal with that fucking hocus-pocus bull shit outside?"

"As I stated earlier. A combination of powers."

"Which doesn't tell me dick. What the fuck did you do to us, and how'd you fucking pull it off?"

"The how is much easier than the why. Amahté is my twin, older by less than a minute. The gift he was granted allows him access to my mind, and he can use that access to project my visions to select people. It is a gift we rarely use, but it was needed this time."

Elle put it together faster than I did. "Wait. So that whole fight thing we went through was damned head game?"

"Not a head game. What you saw, what you suffered, is what will happen."

"What are you saying? That doing our job and taking out Bernhelm is going to get us killed?" Shaking my head, I couldn't stop a cynical laugh.

Staring at me coolly, Woserit waited for the laugh to die. After an uncomfortable silence, she nodded. "As I said. If you enter into battle with the Servant, you will both die. And when you enter the Lands of the Dead this time, Anubis himself will bar your return."

Closing my eyes, I absorbed what she was saying at the same time I tried to figure out if she was lying. Finally, I was opened my eyes again. "You went to a hell of a lot of trouble to find us and bring us here. I'm assuming it has something to do with what Akhenaton referred to as warnings and advice?"

"The warning is already given. The advice is available if you wish it."

Glancing at Elle, I burst into laughter. "If it'll keep us alive a bit longer, you're damned right I want it."

"Very well. When you enter into battle with the Servant of the Dark Lord, there is but one way for you to survive. You must have in your possession the Spear of Isis, and the Dagger of Amun."

"Wait. The what of the who? What's with this superstitious bullshit?" Elle stood and walked to the wall. "Christ, Hav. Let's just get the fuck out of here. We can kill that asswipe before dinner and fly home tomorrow."

Speaking for the first time, Paniwi interrupted. "And in your rush to destroy the Servant, you will die."

The flatness in her voice left no room for argument. Scratching my arm, I asked, "So what's so special about these weapons. We know what Bernhelm's capable of. A bladed weapon isn't going to do any good against him."

After a quick nod from Woserit, Amahté explained. "Millenia ago, there was a great battle. For years, the servants of the gods warred with the armies of the Dark Lord. The Dark Army was led by an evil captain, the foulest and most powerful of all who followed the Evil One. He was impervious to all forms of attack. Blades broke on his flesh, and the energy attacks could not harm him. He turned all attacks into power, growing stronger every moment.

"Finally, two of those who led the Armies of Light arrived at a desperate plan. The one had been granted power by the gods such that he could, upon physical contact, increase the power gifted to others for a brief time. It was a power rarely used, for it made the one so empowered vulnerable to attack.

"The other had been granted what many viewed to be the greater gift. She could, if she chose, strip from one all powers gifted by the gods. The single problem was her gift demanded she shed the blood of her target. It was a gift she used sparingly

"Alone, the gifts were useless. Though great leaders, neither was a supreme warrior. And only a supreme warrior stood a chance to close with the Dark Captain. At that time they remembered an elderly priest of Monthu. His gift was one such as has not been seen since, and many believe it was crafted by Monthu for the ultimate use to which it was put.

"The priest's ability had resulted in many talismans which were in use. His gift was to take the gift of the dying, and imbue it into an object."

"Is that even possible, Hav?" Elle sounded as troubled as I felt.

"I'm not sure. I've heard rumors of a transference ability, but only human to human. I've never heard of storing them in objects." A sudden thought hit me. "If true, it might explain the handful of so-called mystic objects that seem to actually work."

Shrugging aside the questions, I nodded at Amahté to continue. "Against the Dark Captain, the three alone could not prevail. What emerged from their discussions was a final gambit. The leaders would make the ultimate sacrifice.

"They spent the next days preparing their souls for the afterlife. The priest located a young acolyte of the Nephthys Sect; a group of assassins, exclusively female, devoted to that goddess. The remaining time he spent preparing her and himself for what was to come.

"When the day arrived, both captains approached the altar of Monthu clad in white and bearing a single weapon apiece. He carried a short spear, and she a dagger. When the ancient priest, in full ceremonial wardrobe, held out his hand, they stopped.

"When indicated, the male captain finished the approach alone. He handed the spear to a priest of Amun and knelt before the altar. The priest asked for the blessings of Amun over the weapon before handing it over to the aged priest of Monthu. After he offered another prayer for the blessings of his god, he grasped the blade in one hand and the head of the captain in the other. When he spoke the word, the assassin slashed her killing blade across the exposed throat.

"The priest's body shook, as though from a violent seizure. A mist appeared around the hand clasping the forehead, a nebulous haze, and traveled up the arm. The priest's eyes turned first white, then red, before resuming their natural color. The mist traveled down the opposite arm until reaching the spear. There it spread across the blade and down the shaft, coating the length with its luminous substance before sinking into the wooden haft and bronze tip. As the dead captain fell to the floor, the priest cradled the weapon to his chest, then lay it on the altar.

"At his signal, the remaining captain made her approach. Everything followed as before, save that she handed her dagger to a priestess of Isis. After completing his work, the priest of Monthu handed the spear and dagger to the assassin with instruction on the order in which to use them; spear first, dagger last.

"Two days later, a vast cry shook the armies of the Dark Lord. The Dark Captain had been found, mortally wounded from spear and blade. Without that leader, the Dark Army began to collapse under its own weight. By the time another month had passed, they were destroyed.

"The assassin returned in secret and handed the weapons over to the priest of Monthu. Once the dagger and the spear disappeared into the Temple of Monthu they vanished into history and legend."

When he finished the story, I could do nothing but sit and stare. I was struggling to separate fact from myth. Elle simply snorted in disgust. "Big fucking deal. Even if half that shit is true, weapons that nobody can find don't do us one damn bit of good."

With an odd smile, Woserit nodded. "Were they still lost, your task would be hopeless. However, they were discovered many years back. Indeed, they are currently in the possession of the very man you were seeking, the one very nearly responsible for your deaths."

"Gordon Asher." The name emerged in a threatening growl. I couldn't wait to have a conversation with that one.

"The same. He had them stolen from an antiquities museum several years ago." Holding up a hand to prevent further interruptions, she lost the smile. "My visions have given me two further warnings you must heed lest you fail.

"First, whether this man Asher dies or not, you must acquire the weapons. And when the time comes, you must remember the proper order. Use the Spear of Isis first, in order to make the Servant vulnerable. Use the Dagger of Amun second, in order to strip him of his gift. Only in that order will they be successful, and in their success lies yours.

"Secondly, and this is of equal importance, you must have the aid of one who bears the totem of the spider. It is only in her hands that those weapons can hope to find their mark." Staring into my eyes, she nodded. "This woman is known to you, twice. In your previous life you knew her well, and in this life you were sent to kill her."

Before we had a chance to say anything we were encased in the freezing nothingness that was Paniwi's teleportation. Seconds later Elle and I were alone in our motel room. Grabbing a beer from the cooler, Elle swore and fell into a chair. "What the fuck was that all about? Who's this spider-bitch you were supposed to kill but somehow can still help us?"

Grabbing a drink of my own, I leaned against the wall and frowned in thought. "She had to be talking about Maddie."

"Excuse me? Who's Maddie?" The crackle in her voice was matched by the sparks in her eyes. Already irritated for biological reasons, the revelations of the past couple hours had driven her dangerously close to a violent edge.

"Back off, Elle." Grabbing a beer for myself, I sat on the bed. "Her name's Madeline Williams. I went after her solo last year; you were sick, I assume. Anyway, Bob wanted her dead."

"But she's not."

"Only because I had to stop at Hartsdale to pick up some stuff I couldn't fly with. Angela told me to bring her in, but leave her alive."

"Why?" The edge was off, but she was still suspicious. She knew as well as I did that we had to take orders from anyone in charge, and the last order was the only one you followed.

Shrugging, I took another long drink. "Not a clue. She wouldn't explain her reasons." Scratching the back of my head in frustration, I reached into my pocket for the phone. "That bit about knowing her in a previous life can only mean that she's the one though; turns out she was part of the group I led before Charles recruited me. And when I bagged her she had started wearing a spider stenciled on her sweater when she made her rounds."

Grimacing, I dialed the phone. "Angela?"

"What?"

Rolling my eyes, I swore under my breath. It was going to be one of those. "We need Maddie if we want to get this done."

"Why?" Oddly, the sound was less confrontational than curious.

"We've run into some information suggesting that we can't kill, or even beat, Bernhelm without her."

"So you've encountered the Council."

Elle saw my stunned expression. "What?"

Holding up a finger, I put Angela on speaker. "How the hell did you know about that?"

"Certainly you didn't believe you were the only one capable of such discoveries. I have known of them for years, and was the deciding vote in allowing them to remain uncollected. I was certain they would be more useful if left alone. It appears I was correct."

"Can you get her out here or not?"

I could almost hear the smile in her voice. "Not without making it worth her while."

Elle interrupted. "What the fuck? She works for the Company. Order her to get her damned ass out here. It's not that fucking hard, Petrelli."

The smile dropped as a chill filled her voice. "Charming as always, Ms. Bishop. Despite what your father may have told you, I am still your superior and will be addressed with the proper respect, is that understood?" Without waiting for an answer, she continued. "As it happens, she does work for the Company, but on a more freelance basis."

Rolling my eyes, I swore. "Mercenary, you mean."

"If that's how you wish to read it. Ase I said, I can ask her to meet you, but she'll need a reason as well as compensation."

Snorting, I ran through my memory. Rattling off a six digit number, I said, "Give her that. It's a mostly empty account, but it should have more than enough to 'compensate' her. As for a reason? Just tell her Havoc's calling."

"Do you think all it takes is money and a snapped order?"

"The cash should be enough to get her attention. Unless she's changed more than I expect, her curiosity will be aroused enough by the comment to come out here."

"Very well. I'll have her get in touch with you." With a deliberate click, she disconnected the call.

"Fuck!" Putting the phone back in my pocket, I drained my beer. Tossing the bottle into the trash, I threw a glance at Elle. "Hungry?"

* * *

**June 25, 2003; Cairo, Egypt**

I stood alongside Elle at the airport as the small jet rolled to a stop. The dust thrown into the air flew into our faces. Elle's hair and skirt rustled as the hot wind blew around us. A bystander would've thought us completely impassive to what was happening. Nothing could be further from the truth.

Elle's hands, slightly curled down at her sides, concealed a prepared charge. I could smell the burning electricity she kept barely restrained, and the almost wild urge building in her to release it at the first opportunity. Behind my black shades, my eyes were darting around what of the airfield I could see. Thanks to my ability, that was considerably more than most would realize. My ears were filtering through the sounds, listening for anything that didn't belong. My nose was casting about for any scent even remotely out of place.

The jet rolled to a stop, and the whine of the engines fell off as the turbines stopped. The door opened, a stairway unfolding. Sliding my hand behind my back, grasping the butt of the pistol, I walked forward, darting my eyes around. A minute later, just as I reached the base of the stairs, she came out.

She had cut her waist-length hair, and died it from black to a reddish-orange, taking the time to do the same with her eyebrows. She was wearing a purple halter paired with a flowing miniskirt of the same color. A stray breeze ruffled the skirt, and I turned my head away just as I caught a glimpse of a matching thong. A pair of strapped sandals completed the outfit.

Glancing at my face, she laughed and flounced down the steps. Stopping by me, she laughed again. Grazing delicate fingers lightly along my jaw, she asked, "Long time no see, sexy." Glancing over my shoulder, she smiled at Elle's silent fuming. "So, is sparky there as good in bed as she looks?"

Before I had a chance to react, she laughed and walked away. The copilot came down the steps, offering her bags to me. Rolling my eyes, I grabbed them and walked over to the car. Dumping them in the trunk, I slid into the driver's seat and eased the car out onto the road.

Once we got back to the motel, Maddie and Elle vanished inside, leaving me to carry up the bags. By the time I had dumped them in the empty motel room adjacent ours, Maddie was comfortably situated in a chair, sipping on a cold beer. While I sat down next to Elle on the small couch, she leaned back. "Angie gave me a little info on what was going on here, but she didn't tell me much. What's really going on?"

Elle snorted back a laugh. "Angie? She'll kill you for that one."

Grinning quickly, I shrugged. "What'd she say?"

Crossing her legs, deliberately letting the skirt drift to mid thigh, she smiled. "Not much. She handed me the account number and told me you needed help here. Once the check cleared, so to speak, I was on my way."

"Fuck." Taking a sip from my beer, I leaned back in the couch. Elle, in a rarely affectionate gesture, curled into my side. Glancing down, I saw her furious stare at Maddie and carefully stopped a laugh. Shaking my head, I closed my eyes. Glancing back over at her, I explained everything we had learned.

Tossing her hair back out of her face, she took a drink of her beer and laughed. "So we get to this guy, steal the weapons, and that's all we need? Oh, and this psycho bitch claims you're both going to die if I don't help? Christ, Hav, I don't remember you being that fucking gullible."

Resting a hand on Elle's arm as she started to jerk upright, I shook my head. This was part of Maddie's game. Sitting upright, I pulled out a knife and dragged it up my inner arm. Watching as the cut slowly closed, I raised my eyes and caught her glance. "A decade ago, when we were first brought in, would you have believed something like this is possible?"

Standing to my feet, I switched to my panther form and back. "Or this?" Sitting back down with Elle, I shrugged. "We've been with the Company ten years, Maddie. I've seen too much to doubt what Woserit told us. When you add Angela's belief to the mix, it sounds at least credible."

Leaning back, she adjusted her skirt, flashing a little higher than appropriate. Just before she opened her mouth, Elle mumbled in irritation. "Why the fuck do we need this slut, Hav? If we need someone dead, you or I can handle it. We've done it before."

Raising an eyebrow, I glanced at her. "First, we have the warning. I'm not willing to risk either of our lives on a gamble that it was wrong. Also," with a grin, I glanced at Maddie, "I've read her file. She has some talents I think we could use."

Snorting derisively, Elle coldly looked her up and down. "What? Falling on her back and imitating Taco Bell?"

I couldn't restrain a laugh at that comment "Not exactly. You'll see what I mean later." Glancing across the room at Maddie, I raised an eyebrow. "I assume you brought work clothes?"

"Of course I did." Standing up, she stretched. "So, when is everything going down?"

"Elle and I'll do recon tomorrow. We need to know any security the target might have."

Bending over, rubbing her calves, she looked back at me. "And why not me?"

"I want to keep you in reserve. If he doesn't know about you, he can't prepare for you. He already knows about the two of us."

* * *

**June 28, 2003; Cairo, Egypt**

Elle and I were together in the dark, wearing dark clothing to try and blend into the night, outside the apparently abandoned warehouse. We were in radio contact with Maddie, who was approaching from the other side. Glancing at Elle, I nodded shortly.

Laying her hands over the lines leading to the security boxes, she closed her eyes and concentrated. Suddenly, the darkness was brightened by a coruscating blue glow as she threaded a killing pulse through the wiring and into the box. With a muffled explosion, the security system was destroyed

Keying my mike, I gave Maddie the go ahead. Slipping the lock, I led Elle into the darkened interior. Unlike either of them, I didn't require vision enhancement. Part of my ability allowed me to see in the dark. Maybe I couldn't see as good as during the day, but it was infinitely better than even the best night vision equipment would allow.

As expected, Gordon had a small army on call. With a snarl, I drew my kukris and beckoned them forward. Even as I leapt into their midst, I smelled and heard Elle discharging lethal blasts. The hallway became the center of a vast lightning storm. Sharp bursts lit the area, accompanied by the sizzle of scorched air and flesh. The screams of the burned mixed with the coppery scent of arterial spray.

Less than a minute later, everybody else was dead. With a rough laugh, I swiped the blood from my face and pulled Elle into a quick kiss. Pushing me away, she smiled. "What the fuck, Havoc?"

Shrugging, I flashed a tight grin, wishing briefly I could see the wild light in her eyes that always came when she was excited by the violence and chaos around her. Unfortunately, she had to wear the goggles to see. Turning, I crouched to the ground and led her down the hall. "Maddie? Anything?"

Even over the radio, the playful edge to her voice was still obvious. "Nothing left living here, sexy. These morons don't ever look up, not that it would matter tonight. Nobody knew I was around until I dropped from the wall. And then it was too late. Couldn't you have at least given me a decent fight? Half of them were down before they even knew something was happening."

Rolling my eyes slightly, I laughed. "Sorry, Mad. You know where to go?"

"Yeah, I'll be on the ceiling outside the room. You sure you two can persuade him to cooperate?"

Glancing back at Elle, I could see her lips parted, revealing her teeth in a dark smile. She didn't wait for me to answer. "We've never had a problem before, bitch. You sure you can handle your end? Or do you need us to hold your hand?"

Maddie didn't bother responding. One of the few times she hadn't risen to the challenge. Shaking my head, I continued to lead Elle down the hallways, keeping my senses alert for any new targets between us and our prey.

Several uninterrupted minutes later, we were outside the final door. I could smell our prey inside, hiding behind more soldiers. Elle, right behind me, looked around in exasperation. "Where the fuck is that bitch?"

Before she had finished the question, I had already propelled myself into a backflip. Maddie landed immediately behind Elle. "Right here, hot tits. Where's Hav?"

Resting the tip of my blade against the base of her skull, I whispered. "Right here, Maddie." A second later, the blade had been replaced at my back. "Don't play those games, Maddie. They'll get you killed."

"By who? You?"

Shrugging, I nodded. "Among others."

"Nobody else here can take me, and you damn well know it."

"That's not entirely true. You're good, girl. You've been trained to be very good." Leaning forward, I pressed my lips against her ear. "But you're not the best. You sure as fuck aren't the most dangerous. Counting myself, there are three people trained to be more dangerous, more lethal, than you. Two of use are here, tonight. And for us? It's not a fucking game."

"Two of you are here? You mean the human sparkler?" Her quiet laugh irritated me. Walking around her, I tapped Elle's shoulder lightly. Turning slightly, she gave Maddie a long look at the shimmering ball of lightning in her hand. I heard Maddie's intake of breath as she realized how close she had come to a painful death.

As the electricity was reabsorbed into Elle's body, I glanced back at Maddie. "Like I said. For us, it's not a game. And you've never played for the stakes we live for." Grinning, I pulled my kukris again and leaned back. "Now, shall we?"

Kicking in the door, I led the girls inside at a dead run. Elle sprinted beside me, turning target after target into charred flesh and bone. I spun the exquisitely familiar dance of blood and death, hacking and slashing with blades that had long been my closest friends.

Maddie had disappeared as soon as we entered. Her outfit, a black spandex outfit complete with face mask, blended into the near blackness of the room. The only trace of her passing, evidence of her more specialized training and work, was corpse after corpse piling behind her.

Five minutes later, Gordon Hannah was pressed against the wall, my blades pressing against his throat and groin. His wild eyes darted around, looking for help that was not going to come. His entire group of guards, some fifty or sixty, lay in several piles on the floor. Blackened, sliced and torn, they had all died suddenly and brutally.

Smiling, I pressed hard enough to break the skin of his throat. "Now, Mr. Hannah, we're going to play a little game. I'm going to ask you some questions. If you answer honestly, everything's going to be fine. If you lie to me, or if I even think you might be lying to me," leaning forward, growled into his ear, "you will be hurt. Badly." Moving away from him slightly, keeping the blades in place, I flashed a vicious grin. "Understood?"

With a terrified nod, verging on being a spastic twitch, I pulled the blades away. "I thought as much. This shouldn't be too hard, should it?" Glancing at Maddie and Elle, I pretended to think for a second. "The first question has to do with what I guess you would term specialty items. You've got an ancient Egyptian spear and dagger that we want. Where are they?"

The look of fear in his eyes matched the scent rolling off him. But his fear of whatever Bernhelm had threatened him with was strong than what I inspired. Narrowing my eyes, I decided to change that. Pulling the blades away, I waited for him to exhale in relief. At that instant, I spun into a side kick and buried my foot into his stomach. While spinning around, I flipped the kukris into their sheaths at my back and pulled a knife from my waist.

Grabbing him by the neck, I slammed him back against the wall and drove the blade through his shoulder, pinning him to the wall. "This gets worse in a hurry, you son of a bitch. For what you did, I would happily peel your skin from your bones." Taking out another knife, I slowly slid it along his other arm. Putting on just enough pressure to break the surface of his skin, I ran it from elbow to wrist. "But, I don't have the time for those games right now. Tell me what I want to know before I change my mind."

His eyes darted to a small door in the side of the room. Nodding at Elle and Maddie, I slammed the other blade into his other shoulder. "Good. While they're doing that, you and I are going to discuss some other details." Pulling another blade, I made another small slice on his arm. "And I better like your answers. I'm still pissed about that attempt you made to kill me and Elle."

By the time Elle and Maddie returned, carrying the weapons, I had all the information I needed. Not only did I know where Claus was hiding now, but I also knew roughly how many men and women he had with him.

Maddie was holding the weapons loosely at her side, staring in something close to horror at the still breathing body pinned to the wall. Holding out my hands, I took the weapons for a brief inspection. "What's the problem? You knew what I'm capable of. And it isn't like he's going to be following us." Closing my eyes, I sniffed at the weapons. They were every bit as old as we'd been told to expect, and I could smell the hidden power inside them. Handing them back to her, I shrugged. "Looks like they were telling the truth. Now we have a way to win."

Turning back around, I yanked the blades from the wall, letting Gordon's bleeding, broken, body fall to the ground. Taking some rope from the small pack I was carrying, I tied him securely and tightly. Looping another length of rope around his waist, I glanced at the ceiling. As expected there were several beams high above.

With a wicked smile, I gestured to Maddie and explained what I wanted to do. Glancing up, she laughed and shook her head. "Damn, Hav. I'm good, but I'm not that good. I couldn't jump that on my best day."

Rolling my eyes, I nodded. "You think I don't know that? I could throw you that high. All you have to do is carry one end of the rope up, loop it over the beam, and use the soon to be dead weight here to control your decent. Tie it off when you meet him coming up, then drop the rest of the way."

Shrugging, she took the rope in one hand and stepped into my cupped palms. Seconds later, we were all looking at him as he dangled a dozen feet above us. With a tight grin, I took out a small flechette bomb I had made at our motel. Setting the timer for half an hour, we sprinted for our exits.

Ten minutes later the bomb went off, immolating everything in the room. Since the room was the keystone of the building, the central support, the entire place collapsed. We were already back in our rooms.


	20. Chapter 20: The King's Gambit

**July 1, 2003; Outside Cairo, Egypt**

Keying the radio one last time, I glanced toward the nearby wall. "You're certain you can get in unnoticed, Maddie?"

I could hear the slight rustling of her movement over the mike. "Trust me."

Muttering under my breath, I glanced at Elle. Unlike me, she was obviously stripped down for business. Black jeans and a dark blue shirt hugged her body, accentuating her shape. She wore a pistol and knife at her waist, with another blade strapped to her left forearm. Although I had personally trained her in their use, I knew she was unlikely to bother. She preferred to fry her targets.

As she tied her long blond hair into a ponytail, I ran a practiced hand over my body, verifying my own arsenal. A low slung weapons belt, riding the hips of my black jeans, bore a brace of .45s, strapped down to my thighs to prevent them bouncing as I moved. Near the holsters rode a pair of Ka-Bar knives. Where the tough denim disappeared into a pair of black combat boots, another pair of blades could be seen.

The tight black shirt I wore sported a personally designed combat harness. Across the chest hung an assortment of throwing knives and stars. Alongside my ribs, just where they would not interfere with the movement of my arms, was another pair of .45s. The twin kukris were slung to my back, secured, hilt down, in a set of quick-release sheaths.

Covering the ensemble was my black duster. In pockets around the interior and exterior I concealed enough spare ammo to fight a small war, and enough grenades to tear down a good sized condo. It also contained the snake camera Elle and I occasionally used for surveillance, a coil of repelling line complete with weapon attachment, grapple, and hand grips, as well my claws. Small pockets concealed in the forearms held yet another set of blades.

Bending down, I picked up the grenade launcher and slung it over my shoulder. Glancing at Elle as I slid my sunglasses into place, I asked, "We ready?"

Flipping her ponytail over her shoulders she sauntered over to me. Pulling me into a deep kiss, she giggled when she broke it with a sharp jolt that exploded in my mouth. "I am now."

Nodding, I smiled violently, still tasting the bitter edge of her spark on my tongue. Double clicking the mike, I led her at a sprint toward the point we had selected for entry into the complex. Aiming the launcher, I pulled the trigger and allowed the weapon to fall back into position.

As so frequently happened when I headed into combat, time seemed to slow to a crawl. As the grenade described a perfect arch toward the wall, I drew my kukri blades from under my coat. I wanted to preserve the rest of my ammo for Bernhelm.

When the arch of the grenade terminated against the wall, precisely where I'd targeted, the nearby desert was shaken by the concussive blast. The section of wall disappeared in a roar of breaking timber and shattering stone.

As the shrapnel burst inward from the point of explosion, I whipped my blades into combat position and sprinted through the resultant hole. As time appeared to resume normal speed, I found myself leading Elle into a slaughter house. The screams of the injured mingled with the death rattle of the dying in a rising symphony of pain and death.

Bodies lay strewn around the yard, felled in their tracks. The shrapnel had been far more devastating than even I had anticipated. Carefully moving through the bodies of the dead and dying, pushing aside severed body part and stepping around various fluids, I worked past at least two dozen men and women. Finally, I found what I was looking for.

Crouching, I dropped my blades and grabbed the injured woman by the throat and lifted her up. Dropping my gravelly voice into the most threatening register I knew, I growled into her face. "Where the fuck is he?"

Swallowing around my grip, she tried to spit at me. "Go fuck yourself, asshole."

Swearing under my breath, I clenched my fist in an almost spastic motion, crushing her throat. Dropping her lifeless body, I glanced around for another potential survivor. Giving up, I picked the kukris up and stood.

On my feet, I closed my eyes and cast about with nose and ears. The first thing I noticed, even over the blood and death around us, was the excited beat of Elle's heart. The enticing spicy tang, overlaid by the distinctive scent of burnt ozone, that identified her flooded my senses for a moment.

Shrugging it aside, I grinned in anticipation. I couldn't track numbers precisely, but there was a large group of people moving rapidly away from us, and a slightly smaller group running toward us. Opening my eyes, I nodded toward the double door. "Company on its way."

With a laugh, she held out her glowing palms, fingers clawed over twin orbs of violent light. "Good."

Counting silently under my breath, I timed my charge to meet them as they burst through the door. As I spun and slashed my way into at least a dozen men and women, I felt Elle's bolts flashing past me with their usual lethal force.

Several minutes later, I led Elle through the burned, broken and severed corpses, into a blank hall. Keeping my senses alert, I opened the mike. "Maddie? How're things on your end?"

After a slight pause, her voice came over the line. "What the fuck did you hit the place with? A damned pocket nuke?"

Cleaning the kukris and putting them away, I pulled out my claws and snapped them in place. The halls around here weren't wide enough for the broader strokes of the blades. Leading Elle through corridors, senses still extended, I laughed. "A grenade, actually. I assume it worked?"

"You could say that. I damn near got spotted because of it."

With a barked laugh, I paused near the corner and extended my senses. Company was coming, but the sound and scent indicated there was still enough distance not to worry about. "Did you hear anything useful?"

"Depends on your definition of _useful_. A couple of the guys that hauled ass said something about protecting the Master. They ran off in a different direction from the others, yelling about the lower levels."

Smiling coldly, I nodded at Elle. "Good. See if you can find their entrance. Elle and I'll cut our way through this next group, then we'll pay Bernhelm a visit." Cutting the connection, I flexed my fingers, feeling the metal of the claws gliding slightly across my flesh.

Waving one hand at Elle in a familiar motion, I smiled when she readied her lightning. Crouching to the ground, resting one fist on the concrete to aid in balance, I joined her in waiting. Less than a minute later, the small group I had sensed came running down the hall.

With a roar, I leaped into the middle of the group. Slashing and kicking, I felt muscle and flesh give under my claws as bone was shattered under the pounding from my feet. Elle loosed blast after blast with almost surgical precision. A minute later, another dozen men and women had been rendered to barely recognizable corpses. Wiping the blood away from my face with the sleeve of my coat, I flashed a feral smile at Elle.

Turning before she could say anything, I led her down the halls at a sprint. The time for stealth was over. They knew the two of us were here. Twice we were interrupted. By the time it was over, there were another dozen or so bodies, smoking and ruined, behind us. The confined space, and the pure ferocity of our attack, had spared us serious injury.

Pausing to catch my breath, I smiled at Elle and keyed the mike again. "Where the fuck is that door, Maddie?"

"Take a sniff, big boy. You can't be a hundred feet away from me."

Pausing, I cast about for her scent. Laughing, I shook my head. Leading Elle down the remaining hall, I found Maddie perched on the wall just beside a seemingly solid wall. "You're sure about this, girl?"

Her body, dressed entirely in form fitting black spandex, glided down the wall. One gloved hand reached out about where the lock would be on a normal door. Lifting her masked face, she laughed and threw me a wink. I watched as her hand seemed to flow, the fingers elongating slightly.

A second later there was a snap, and her hand tore away from the wall, carrying a flat panel in her palm. Catching the panel as it flicked through the air, I noticed a dozen or more almost needle thin punctures scattered across the surface, as well as a ring of thicker punctures along the edge. Glancing back at her, I raised my eyebrow.

Laughing, she flattened one hand over the surface of the exposed keypad, and raised the other hand so I could watch as a hundred thin pieces extended from her flattened palm, even as the fingers lengthened. "It's part of my gift, Hav. How'd you think I could walk on walls?"

Before I had a chance to answer, there was a small popping sound, and a panel in the wall slid aside, revealing a stairwell. Before I could even move, she darted through the top of the revealed doorway. Sliding in behind her, I led Elle down the stairs at a quiet, cautious, run.

Limited lighting would have hindered anyone else. For me it was scarcely noticeable. Several minutes after first entering the concealed stairwell, I reached the entrance to the sublevel. I could hear Maddie skittering down the ceiling, and Elle's distinctive presence was heading down the last flight of stairs.

The area concealed down here, hundreds of feet below the surface, was nothing more than a giant, bunker-style, room. Closing my eyes, I extended my senses of smell and hearing, seeking any sign of Bernhelm. With shock I realized that his scent was old, at least half an hour but probably longer. Glancing up and back, I shrugged. "Looks like Claus left us alone with a few of his buddies."

Glancing at the keypad, I glanced back at Elle. "Could you short this for us?"

Brushing her hand over the keypad, there was a slight puff of singed electronics accompanied by the low light and scent indicating she had loosed only the tiniest fraction of her ability. With a nearly silent crack, the door opened.

Pushing it aside, I strode into a room filled with at least thirty people. Shrugging, I crouched and let Elle and Maddie through the door as well. "Where the fuck does he find them all" Running my eyes over the mob, I fastened my gaze on a giant of a man.

He had to be at least seven foot tall, and couldn't have weighed less than four hundred. His stance indicated he was as close to a leader as this group had. "You and your pals have one chance of survival here. Tell us where Bernhelm went."

Laughing, he glanced around the room. "There are at least sixty of us here. You would kill us with only three?"

Nodding slightly, I crouched lower and flexed my hands. "We would kill you all with any one of us. Tell us where Claus ran off to."

Swearing at the three of us in Arabic, he raised his fist and made a slashing motion. As if on cue, the entire group moved to attack. Tossing a quick glance back and up, taking in both Maddie and Elle, I shrugged and smiled. "Good. We get to do this the hard way."

Elle and I had been together for so long that we no longer required more than a glance to know what the other was going to do. And, in a melee such as this, we knew we could trust each other not to get in the way, and to keep an eye out in case the other was in a bind. This time, though, we went in with reservations. We'd never worked with Maddie, so we didn't know how she would handle the situation.

Shrugging aside the doubts, I watched as the group surged toward us. "Elle, you know what to do. Maddie? Do what you have to." Dropping to a crouch, I flexed my calves in preparation for a leap. "Let's play."

Leaping into the middle of them, I began the dance of death that had become so familiar over the years. I loosed the rage that always burned inside, taking pleasure as my claw-covered hands tore through flesh and bone. My first target was the giant. I knew him for a dangerous man, and recognized the leadership he displayed. Take him out, and we had a chance of ending this with at least one body still breathing.

Tearing through the half dozen men and women between us, I launched off the shoulders of the last falling body directly at the giant. My clawed hands reached toward him, aching to plunge into his throat. I was staring down his eyes when a directed sonic blast caught me in the ribs and hurled me against the wall. I managed to twist enough, just in time, to protect my arms. Instead, I felt several ribs cave under the force of the impact.

Rolling immediately to my feet, I growled with pain. Blinking aside the red tinge in my eyes, I glanced around. My gaze fastened on a young woman with an extremely arrogant cast to her face. Cocking my head slightly, I saw her raise her arms and slap open palms together. Another sonic blast erupted from the clapped hands, following the path indicated by her pointed fingers. Timing it just right, I launched over the blast, clawed hands spread, with a roar of fury.

I watched the horror in her eyes mount as my ballistic trajectory carried me to her. In a panicked move, she attempted to use her ability again, but didn't have time. I crossed the distance in an instant; less than five seconds had passed since she had attacked me. My claws tore through her chest like paper, shattering her rib cage. Shredding her heart, I spun, ripping the claws through her side and splattering those nearby with gore.

Even as I spun, I slashed my hands out to the sides, ripping through a couple targets who were too close to escape. Crouching to the floor, I swept my gaze around the room, noting with pleasure the bodies falling all around. Elle's targets were burned and battered, in some cases all but disintegrated. But a handful of other bodies?

The injuries sustained by those corpses made no sense. They were sliced in ways I might have managed with a blade, but none of them had fallen by my hand. Suddenly, Maddie dropped between two targets. With a glancing blow, barely more than a caress, she severed the artery in the man's neck and spun to confront the astonished woman just beside her.

This blow came slowly enough for me to see what happened. As she drove stiffened fingers toward the woman's throat, her hand widened and flattened. Her fingers blended together, narrowing to a razor's edge. As the narrowed fingers connected with the smooth flesh of the throat, the skin parted. Then the artery was severed. As Maddie finished her thrust, the astonished woman's head flew from her shoulders, bouncing off a nearby body, already dying as his head was destroyed from a violent electrical blast.

Maddie finished her rotation and fastened her hands around a man's throat, using the momentum to flip onto his shoulders. As her ability severed the arteries in his throat, spraying blood, she leapt back to the ceiling, sticking in place as she located another series of targets.

Time sped back up, less than a dozen seconds had passed. I had four obliging men in front of me, all with various manifestations. A quick whiff told me that one of them had an acidic ability, while another was primarily gaseous in nature. The other two had energy based abilities.

With a quick grin, I dropped into a crouch and attacked. With a lunge, I slammed one set of claws into acid boy's crotch. Ignoring the burning pain from the acid, I used the momentum to slam him into the gaseous cloud that was the other immediate threat. Listening for an instant to the screams of pain that came from the strangely mixed duo, I turned to the nearest energy emitting target.

With a laugh, he raised his hands, plasma building in his palms. Shaking my head, I grinned and snapped my claws at his wrists, shattering the bone and shredding the skin. As he screamed in pain, I clutched his shoulders and used the momentum to launch myself into the air, dragging my claws across his face as I did so.

In the twisting leap, I dodged a blast of some unknown energy, slicing the claws into either side of the remaining man's skull, slicing through the skin and bone into the brain. Riding him to the ground, I turned the momentum into a forward roll, coming to my feet well away from the crowd.

The maimed target clutched his wrists, pumping out his life's blood, to his torn face, screaming in agony. Ignoring him, I leapt into the fray again. Slashing and slicing and kicking, I danced my way through them. Bloodied and torn bodies began to pile up.

The air was filled with the coppery scent of spilled blood and the ionized scent of electrified flesh, and with the agonized screams of the dying. The giant had faded into the background as we worked our way through the crowd.

Finally, after what seemed an eternity of blood and brutality, the giant was all that remained. He looked around in horror at the torn, battered and burned bodies strewn around the cavernous room. I approached from one side, blood dripping from dozens of still open cuts, burns from the varied energy abilities slowly closing, my claws spread to the side and a twisted smile on my face. Elle approached from the other, eyes glowing and hair flowing in the wake of her discharge, a large ball of violent electricity perched in her palm. Maddie was perched on the body of her last target, just waiting for the giant to move.

As we approached, he tried to back away. Shaking my head, I nodded at Elle. After an extended blast, burning through his shoulder, she smiled and shook her head. "No running away, Mister Big Guy. We want to have a little chat."

Giving him my most disturbing grin, I watched the agony on his face for several minutes. "It's really simple. You tell us what we want to know, you walk away. You don't, you get hurt."

Cocking my head, I flexed my hand. "Where's Bernhelm?"

Spitting at me, he looked around quickly. "I'll tell you nothing!"

"Wrong answer, although the one I kind of hoped you'd give." Nodding at Elle, I leapt toward him. He tried to dodge me, only to be blasted back against the wall by a violent burst of lightning.

Bouncing off the wall, he lay on the floor gasping for air, a singed pattern crossing his stomach. Landing beside him, I slashed my claws down, shredding a hand. "I think I forgot to mention something. You will talk. Eventually. The only question being how much of yourself will be attached by the time you cave."

Suddenly I was flying across the room. Flipping in midair, I landed with my feet against the wall, using the momentum to bounce back toward him. Landing on the ground, I rolled and jumped. Landing on him while he was attempting to get back to his feet, one set of claws sliced into his shoulder. As the shoulder separated, attached only by the slightly torn muscle and tendon and flesh, I bent close to his agonized face.

With my mouth near his ear, I growled, "Normally, this is the part where I make something humorous, a smart ass comment about your level of idiot. I don't have the time for that today." Shifting my balance so my legs were steady under my body, easily balance on the balls of my feet, I gripped his sides. "Unfortunately for you, that means I don't have the patience to deal with you the way we normally would."

Straightening to my feet, too rapidly for him to know what was happening, I tossed him straight into the air. Spinning around on the ball of one foot, I slammed a kick into his chest. While he curled around my leg, ribs snapping under the kick, I nodded at Elle. "Explain it to him."

A second later, at nearly the same instant he began to fly away from my foot, a white, crackling, heat sparked across the room. With force enough to shake dust from the wall, the bolt of lightning slammed him across the room.

With a deliberately cute, even flirtatious, smile, she cut the juice. Sauntering over to where he lay collapsed on the floor, staying just out of easy reach. Running a practiced eye over his wounds and the various burns, she shook her head and flipped her ponytail so it ran down her back again.

Crossing her arms, she smirked. "It goes like this, Crispy. You're going to tell us what we want to know; they always do. Normally, it'd be a little pain now a little pain later, getting worse until you tell us what we want to know. My partner over there likes to make a game of it. So, here's the deal. You tell us what we want to know, without making it too difficult, and you get to leave this place alive. You make it difficult, maybe we go too far and you die. Either way, we find out what we want to know."

Gasping for air, he looked at her through glassy, pain-blurred, eyes. "You don't dare. I've seen you. I will find you and kill you."

While she had explained things to him, I had stripped off my claws and carefully cleaned them. Sliding them into their pocket in my coat, I looked back over at him. "Don't be a bigger idiot than you have to be. Look around, dickless blunder. We slaughtered your entire fucking army. You come after us, you die. End of fucking story."

Leaning against the wall, I cocked my head slightly at him. "Now, let's try this again. Where the fuck did Bernhelm go?"

Rolling to his side, he grabbed his shattered ribs and grimaced. "Just fucking kill me, all right. You're not getting anything out of me."

Pulling out a knife, I sliced into his burned arm, exposing a major nerve. "That's where you're wrong, dumbass." Lightly grasping the exposed nerve between my thumb and finger, I began to pinch and pull. Listening to his screams, I smiled tightly. "Now, how about answering that question?"

Glancing over, I swore. He'd passed out. Smashing my fist into his ribs, I let the pain wake him back up. "None of that shit. Answer the fucking question."

"Go. To Fucking. Hell." Each word was an obvious strain, grunted out through gasps of pain.

Leaning back, I fixed him with a calculating gaze. Snapping his arm like a twig, I nodded at Elle and walked over to Maddie. As Elle began to work him over, I noticed Maddie's face turning slightly green. "What's wrong?"

Shrugging, she turned away from the action. "I'm not really sure. I guess I'm just not particularly suited for this type of work."

Shrugging, I kept an eye on Elle's work. "Probably not. You usually do recovery work for the Company, right?"

Laughing quickly, she shrugged. "You could put it that way." Her voice was muffled slightly by the mask she work, but it was still melodic. "Angie pays me to obtain certain items for the Company. I've also recovered things that were stolen."

"Yeah, not exactly the kind of work Elle and I specialize in." Walking back over to the even more badly burned body, I kicked him several times. "How about now?"

Laying on his stomach, unwilling and possibly unable to move, he whimpered, "All right. What do you want to know?"

"Where'd Bernhelm go?"

"He ran. When you broke in and started slaughtering your way through the compound, we brought him down here. He ordered us to hold the fort, to kill you, and then he took the escape tunnel out." Gasping for air, he used his arm to push himself over and point at a seemingly ordinary section of wall. "Through there. Just push the fourth block down. I don't know where he went from there."

"That's all I needed." With a dark laugh, I grabbed him around the throat and lifted him up.

"I thought you were gonna let me live?''

Shrugging, I clenched my fist, breaking his neck. "I lied."

Dumping the body on the floor, I went over to the wall and pushed the block in. When the door opened, I grinned. I could smell Bernhelm in the hall. Less than twenty minutes ago.

"Run you son of a bitch. The hunt's just about over." Glancing back at Elle and Maddie, I smirked. "Care for a ride?"

Changing forms, I lay down long enough for them to mount, and leapt forward with a roar.


	21. Chapter 21: Check And Mate

**July 1, 2003; Outside Cairo, Egypt**

My wide paws carried us soundlessly across the desert. Already, we had covered miles of burning sand, pausing only to drink from the canteens Maddie had filled before we left the compound.

In any other environment, I would have been almost flying in the graceful sprint of the cat. Under the baking sun, I was forced to walk; albeit at a pace faster than a normal man could jog. Elle and Maddie had also been forced to concede to the desert heat.

Elle sat in front, closest to my massive skull. She had stripped the dark blue shirt and tied it around her waist. The smooth, pale flesh of her torso was broken only by the thin, partially transparent, blue bra. She had also taken the time to twist her long blond hair into a pile on the top of her head.

Maddie followed suit soon after. Tucking her mask into a pouch at her belt, she pulled the black top off and tied it at her waist. A black sports bra was all that remained. She tied her short hair back to keep it off her neck.

Mile followed mile as I tracked Bernhelm's passage. Slowly the trace grew fresher and stronger. It wasn't long until I could hear as well as smell him. An hour later I realized he was less than a mile ahead.

Stopping just before we crested a high dune, I lay down and let the girls climb off. Elle stood nearest, one hand resting on my back. When I shrugged back into my normal form, wincing from the pain of the shift, she stood with her arm around my waist.

Shifting my sunglasses slightly, I grinned. Draping my arm over Elle's shoulders, I slipped the small pack off my shoulder and tossed it to Maddie. As she opened it, tucking the dagger under her belt and grasping the spear loosely, I ran back through the plan quickly. "He's maybe a half mile ahead of us. Elle and I can give you ten or fifteen minutes to get into position, then we attack."

With a sparkling laugh, she grabbed a piece of rope from her waist and secured the spear to her back. "Got it, Hav. And when you've got him good and busy, I jab his ass with the spear. Preferably from someplace he can't see my gorgeous body."

From under my arm, Elle smirked viciously. "And we keep it up, keeping him distracted so your ass can shove that knife someplace delicate."

Dropping the smile, I patted the blades strapped to my chest. "If that doesn't kill him, I can finish the job."

Nodding as Maddie turned to go, I cleared my throat. "Be careful out there, girl. I need you alive to finish this damn job."

Letting a grin flit across her face, she threw a mock salute. "You got it sexy. See ya on the flip side."

Elle pressed against my side as we watched Maddie make her rapid but cautious way out of sight. As soon as she vanished, I pulled Elle into a rough, passionate kiss. As my gloved hands stroked the warm flesh at her back, we molded together.

After several minutes, she broke the kiss with a short burst that arched across her tongue into my mouth. Letting her push away slightly, I rested my hands on her small hips and stared into her perfect gray eyes. Blinking beneath the dark lenses, I flashed a half smile. "Are we ready to do this?"

Nodding, she slipped her hand to the crotch of my jeans. Releasing a carefully measured jolt, just enough to be felt, she giggled. "We'll finish that later. Let's take out the asshole first."

Narrowing my eyes, I tightened my hands briefly at her waist before letting go. "All right. Let's do this." Turning to head up the dune, I glanced at her from the corner of my eye. I couldn't stop a laugh.

Her face bore a familiar expression. The thrill of the hunt mixed with a resolute intensity. She lived for these moments. Much as myself, she continued doing the job partly because she was ordered to, but more because she was good at it. Most of all, she continued the job because she loved it.

Walking side by side, we crested the dune. Before us lay a vast, nearly empty, desert. Only a few dunes broke the seemingly endless landscape. In the distance, we could make out a lone figure striding through the sand, seemingly unaffected by the heat and the elements.

With a vicious grin, I led her down the dune and onto the flat. Several minutes later, we were in range. Pausing in our forward movement, I looked across the short distance, less than a hundred yards. "BERNHELM!!"

Turning rapidly, he almost lost his balance in the sand. Regaining his footing, he crossed his arms and cocked his head, a laugh suddenly erupting from his throat. "I wondered how long it would take. I must admit, I am surprised. I wouldn't have expected a slut and an animal to find me this quickly."

Carefully moving my hand behind my back, grasping the launcher that was concealed behind my duster, I flashed a cold smile. "You know the rules. You don't leave the Company, and you sure as hell don't try to take over."

Slowly, holding his hands out to his sides, he started walking toward us. "You could join me. The two of you have proven to be dangerous and efficient. I could use you. And I could give you a position of far more importance than the clean up they have you working now."

Narrowing my white eyes behind the lenses of my shades, I timed his movement. I could smell the ozone increasing as Elle began calling up her power. "I don't think so, Bernhelm. I don't work for corpses."

"Corpses?" Laughing, he kept walking toward us. He didn't seem to notice as Elle crouched lower and widened the distance between the two of us. "You've hunted me, which means you know my ability. It's going to take far more than-"

With a violent yell, I ripped the grenade launcher from behind my back and triggered it. The launch was timed to land the grenade under his descending foot. The resultant blast launched him into the air and back. I immediately triggered another blast into him, propelling him backwards.

Elle, with a wicked laugh, launched twin blasts of violet intensity into him. She kept the blasts focused on him even as I levered grenade after grenade into his chest and skull.

When he landed, we continued the assault. By the time I had fired my final grenade, he was buried in a charred hole, several feet deep. The last grenade blasted in the hole, caving it in and collapsing hundreds of pounds of sand on top of his body.

Dropping the useless launcher to the ground, I ripped out a pair of .45s and started running to the now buried hole. I knew he wasn't dead, but I wasn't quite expecting what happened.

With a roar, the desert sand erupted in lightning and thunder. When we had seen him, he appeared to be a little under six foot and barely one-fifty. Now he was half again as tall as my seven foot frame and he had to weigh in at no less than four hundred. More startling was the corona of energy surrounding him.

Lightning, scarlet and blue, crawled across his arms and torso and flashed from his eyes. The scent of burning ozone, different from but similar to Elle's, nearly overwhelmed me. A bass rumble emerged from his throat, an almost maniacal laugh.

Raising both hands, he launched scarlet blasts at Elle. She met them with twin violet blasts of her own. The heat and sound would have been enough to drive a normal man insane. Without breaking stride, I raised both pistols and unloaded the clips into him.

The bullets impacted and bounced off harmlessly. He grew yet more in size and strength. The only positive result was to take his attention so one of Elle's blast slipped past his defenses and knocked him back several feet.

With a roar of rage, he shook and grew yet further. Not much, since all he was being impacted by were my bullets. But his lightning grew stronger, more intense. It took more effort on Elle's part to block his blasts.

At a full sprint, I finished emptying the clips. Just as I threw the pistols aside and reached for new ones, I felt a burning pain tearing into my chest. Before I had time to realize what was happening, a sizzling bolt of energy was throwing me through the air.

Rolling to a stop, I slowly raised to my knees. Before being thrown back down, I barely glimpsed the flicker as a shaft flew through the air and bounced off his iron-hard skin. The light coming from him, already intense, doubled and then doubled again. With a roar of absolute fury, he lifted his suddenly massive arms to the sky.

He had been easily half again my own seven feet. Now he stood nearly twice that. And his already massive bulk, easily reaching four hundred pounds, had nearly tripled. His clothing, already torn and shredded from the earlier growth and the combined attacks and counterattacks, completely disintegrated under the new strain.

"Fuck me sideways." Elle's power died as she whispered in awe at the new creature we were facing. Although recognizably Bernhelm, the power he was now displaying dwarfed anything we had seen.

It writhed across his nude body, tracing every muscle and every pulsing vein in a throbbing, scarlet luminescence. A corona of pale fire leaked from his eyes. Looking around, he tried to find the source of the attack.

Shrugging his gigantic shoulders, he began to laugh. It had been loud before. Now it echoed across the desert. Hopefully nobody would come to investigate.

"Whatever your plan was, friends, it seems to have backfired." A wicked smile spread across his ghastly face, revealing teeth the size of floorboards. "I now have enough power to wipe you both out and rebuild my army."

Pulling out my remaining pistols, I narrowed my eyes. "He's vulnerable Elle! Blast his fucking ass with everything you've got!" Roaring, I charged, sustaining fire until both were emptied. I could feel, smell and hear the charge as Elle unleashed blast after blast at him.

He stood there, laughing. He kept a charge close to him that melted the bullets before they reached him. His flesh was marked with small burns, but nothing more serious. He extended one hand and released a series of small pulses, easily catching and shattering each of Elle's attacks. His laughter grew louder and more annoying with every second.

Partly because I knew he wasn't distracted enough for Maddie to stab him, and partly because he was pissing me off, I dropped the worthless pistols and drew my kukris. Taking three quick steps, I launched myself in a screaming attack, aiming both blades at his chest.

A burning pain, an agony, slammed into my chest instead. Even as it carried me through the air, I felt it burn through, piercing me even as it carried me through the air. With a jolt, it cut off and allowed my momentum to carry me in an arch that slammed me against the dune.

Shouting in agony, I looked down at the hole crisped through my chest. The only saving grace was the fact that nothing vital had been hit, and that the wound had been cauterized by the discharge. Pushing myself to my knees and then to my feet, I broke into a shambling run, picking around the edges of the wound for a brace of throwing knives.

Sliding them into place, I was relieved to see that Elle still holding her own. Whether because he was toying with her or because she was stronger than she sometimes seemed, she had sustained only minor burns. Even in my pain filled state, I could see the light tracks of burn scores across one shoulder and singing on her bra.

Throwing the blades, I saw Maddie rise from the desert behind him. Even as he directed a burst of violet lightning at the flickering pieces of metal, turning them into amorphous blobs of metal, She slammed the Dagger into the small of his back.

Everything stopped. For just a second, an eternal moment frozen in time, everything stopped. All light, all sound, all movement seemed to cease. Then he exploded.

Every ounce of energy he had collected, every erg of power he had absorbed, every drop of lightning he had converted, rushed from him in a violent, cascading, explosion. I barely had time to see Maddie thrown from him, her clothing disintegrating under the onslaught, before it caught me.

Lifting me from the ground, it threw me through the air. My weapons fell as the cloth holding them to my battered body was destroyed. The sounds of a million explosions threatened to deafen me even as the cold heat from his explosion coated my body. Every hair stood as the discharge worked across my flesh. At some point during my forced flight, I passed out from the sheer sensory overload.

Blinking back to consciousness, I slowly, painfully, climbed out of the hole in the ground. I didn't know how long I had been there, but it couldn't have been too long. The gaping wound in my chest hadn't even begun healing.

Stretching out over the edge of the hole, gasping for air, I looked around. Less than a dozen yards away, I could make out Elle's explosion-stripped body laying face up in the sand. Much further away, a hundred yards or more, Maddie lay where she had fallen after the explosion. Tossed aside like a rag doll, she lay twisted and folded, her nude body burnt red in places from the heat of the explosion.

In the middle of a sea of glass, less than fifty yards away, Claus Bernhelm had fallen to his knees. No longer the behemoth he had become at the end. Not even as large as he had been when we spotted him. A mere ghost of his former self. Blood trickled from the wound in his back, and tears leaked from his eyes as he stared in horror at his shrunken and powerless hands.

Growling under my breath, I began to crawl across the distance. As my strength slowly returned to the limbs, I pushed myself to my feet and began to stumble my way to him. Halfway there, I noticed the kukris where they had fallen from my hands earlier. Falling to my knees, I dug them out from where they lay, half buried in the sand.

Lurching back to my feet, I stumbled across the distance. Stopping in front of him, I closed my eyes and stared into the sun. I could hear his mad babbling, but it made no sense. Breathing heavily, feeling the bone and muscle knitting back together, healing the damage to my chest, I let the heat flood through me.

Looking down into his face, I recognized the madness in his face. Wiping the sweat from my eyes with the back of one filthy hand, I shook my head. "They wanted me to bring you back alive." Glancing back at the still motionless forms of Elle and Maddie, I spat in his face. Crouching down, wincing at the pain in my burned calves and still open chest, I slammed one of the kukris into his stomach, standing as it held against his ribcage, lifting him with me.

"But that's not going to happen, you stupid son of a bitch!" With a violent slash, the other blade sent his head flying. Releasing the blade in his chest, I collapsed to the ground beside his headless body.

Several minutes later, possibly as long as an hour, I had rebuilt enough strength to hack a hole in the desert sand, using the kukri as a spade. Dumping his body and head inside, I slowly gathered the visible weapons and dumped them in as well. The spear and dagger had apparently been destroyed. I couldn't find them.

Caving in the hole, I completely covered every trace of it's existence. Hopefully, in a couple of days, Elle and I would be able to come out here and clean up the mess. If not, I could be secure in the knowledge that it would remain undiscovered for years. What the desert swallowed was only reluctantly given back

Slowly, I crossed the shorter distance to Maddie. Kneeling beside her, I pressed my fingers to her throat and ran a weary eye over her nude form. I breathed a short sigh of relief when I felt a pulse and saw her chest moving slightly. Other than some nasty burns and a couple bad scrapes, she seemed relatively uninjured. Crouching, I lifted her into a fireman's carry.

Steadying myself under her weight, I stumbled across the distance to Elle's body. Unlike Maddie, Elle had received a couple of wicked burn scores. Maddie's came from the explosion, which had involved very little overall heat. Elle's, however, came from directed energy attacks. One particularly ugly burn curled across the swell of her left breast and over the shoulder.

Shifting Maddie, as carefully as possible, so she was draped over one shoulder, I crouched next to Elle. Laying one hand against her throat, I almost wept with relief. Her pulse was weak and thready, and her breathing was rapid and shallow, but they were both steady. With the shape I was in, I hadn't been looking forward to sparing resources for healing anyone but myself.

Gritting my teeth, I bent down and slid Elle over my free shoulder. Staggering to my feet, growling in pain as the gaping chest wound twinged and tore from the fresh stress, I took several unsteady steps. Righting myself, shifting their weight on my shoulders, I turned to face the empty desert we had crossed to get here.

Better than twenty, closer to thirty, miles stretched between Bernhelm's desert fortress and where we had ended up. On a good day, even under the practically dead weight of the girls, I could cover that distance in less than four hours. Switching to my feline form would have cut that time in half.

But injured, in need of a healing rest, and unable to risk changing form? I'd be lucky to make it in six hours.

Mentally shrugging, I growled under my breath and began to slowly walk through the sun-blasted sand.

* * *

**July 3, 2003; Outside Cairo, Egypt**

Blinking awake, I stared at the blank ceiling for several minutes. The chest wound was almost completely healed now. I could feel the last of the infection leaving even as the scar tissue formed. In a few hours, even that would be gone as every physical trace of the wound was erased by my ability.

It had taken closer to ten hours to cover the distance to the fort, testing even my endurance. After laying them in a pair of cots, I had gone looking for some basic first aid. I could recover from anything, even the infection I could feel building in the chest wound. They couldn't.

The first step was to wash them both with warm water. Carefully, trying not to cause them more pain than needed, I cleaned the blood and grime from their bodies. Then I cleaned and dressed the cuts and scrapes, and spread salve across the worst of the burns. After I finished with them, I collapsed onto a cot I had pulled out for myself.

When I woke the first time, I was in the grip of a raging infection. My chest burned and there was a disgusting stench rising from it. Cracking open my eyes, I shut them almost immediately with a small moan. The dim light pierced my skull like a knife.

I didn't want to look at my chest, but the feeling and scent strongly indicated I needed to clean it out. Slowly opening my eyes again, I pushed myself up on my elbows and looked down. A startled gasp escaped when I saw a large bandage covering the wound and wrapping around my ribs.

"Elle, he's awake." I felt Maddie's hands gently push me back into the cot. "Get back down, Hav. You damn near died on us."

Letting her push me back into the cot, I felt Elle sit down on the edge and lean toward me. After she had let me take a drink of water, I licked my lips. "How long?"

Elle pushed her hair back and gave a slight smile. "We don't actually know. When I woke up we had obviously been here for several hours, and you were already out of it. We cleaned you up and dressed the wound as best we could, and we've taken turns watching you while the other sleeps. It's been most of a day since we woke up though."

Maddie laughed and traced her hand across my thigh, where I could feel shorts. "We found some unopened clothing, mostly shorts and tops used for exercising. After we cleaned you up, the same way you apparently did for us, we went ahead and grabbed you a pair." Tossing back her short hair, she raised an eyebrow. "For some reason, Elle wouldn't let me put them on you."

"Why so long? My regen shouldn't have even allowed this infection to build, let alone carry me that close to the edge."

Maddie shrugged. "We're not entirely sure. Elle has a theory, and I can't find any argument against it, but we're not positive."

Turning my blurring vision to Elle, I nodded for her to explain. Holding out a hand, she showed a small spark. "That's all I've got right now, and that's more than I could do right after I woke up. We reached the point where we were functioning entirely on adrenaline out there. I'm pretty sure, when you combine that with what you had to go through to get us here-"

"Including slicing your feet to hell and gone, big guy. We cleaned those up too. You're welcome for that."

Grunting in frustration, Elle continued her explanation. "You apparently just ran out of juice, Havoc. You're ability isn't functioning right now because you exhausted it just keeping alive." About that time in the explanation, I passed out again.

This time, though, things were different. The girls had apparently changed the dressing at some point after my ability finally kicked in and decided to leave it to the air. Glancing around, I saw both of them collapsed in their cots. The light no longer pierced through my skull, and the stench from the infection was gone.

Quietly climbing out of the cot, I began to slowly pace around the room, pausing frequently to stretch. Everything seemed to be working the way it was supposed to. The chest had almost entirely healed; I could feel the peculiar itch of scar tissue forming and being dissolved. My feet were completely healed and the various other burns and scrapes were gone without a trace.

Crouching, I tested my flexibility. Closing my eyes, I slid into a full lotus. From there, I rolled forward into the side crow, and lifted myself into a forearm stand. After holding that for a minute, I twisted into the scorpion, before rolling into the wheel and finishing in the sleeping thunderbolt. Aside from a little tightness in the still healing flesh, and a twinge in my right calf, everything seemed to be as it was.

"Mmm. Just how I like my men; flexible and on the floor." Opening my eyes, I looked up to see Maddie smiling down at me. "Feeling better, I take it?"

Pushing to my feet, I rubbed the small of my back. "Mostly."

"Good. I'm heading back into town to grab us all some clothes. I think Elle wants some time with you. Alone." Running her finger up my bare chest, she laughed. "God, I'd fuck you right now if I didn't think she'd get pissy about it. Maybe I'll find a nice boy and do some not-so-nice things to him while I'm in town. Or a girl. Or maybe both." Shrugging, she turned to go. "See ya in a few hours, sexy. Maybe tomorrow if someone gets lucky."

After she left, I spent the next half hour looking through the rooms in the basement barracks. Chuckling to myself, I went back to the room and looked down at Elle where she lay on her stomach on the cot. Running one hand gently up her leg, brushing her thigh until the flesh was hidden by her shorts, I pressed my lips to the small of her back, just above the shorts.

A slight shiver told me she felt it, but wasn't waking up yet. Shaking my head, I pulled her hair aside and leaned down to her ear. Taking it lightly between my teeth, I bit just hard enough to wake her up. Picking her up before she could say anything, I grinned. "Have you looked around this floor at all?"

Dropping her hand, she slipped it behind my waist band. "No. Why?"

Sliding through the door I had left open, I shrugged. "They have a whirlpool."

"What the fuck are you holding me for, then?" Swarming out of my arms, she stripped and slid into the whirlpool, positioning herself over one of the jets. Writhing as the pulse massaged her, she tossed her head back. "Get your ass in here, Havoc. I'm cumming whether you're in or not."

Laughing, I stripped and joined her.

* * *

**July 10, 2003; White Plains, New York**

Maddie and Elle sat beside me as Bob and Arthur finished reading our reports. Angela sat near the door, beside Charles, gazing at the three of us through hooded eyes.

Bob dropped the report with an irritated sigh and started cleaning his glasses. "What it boils down to is that, yet again, you countered, on your own initiative, a direct order."

Raising an eyebrow, I crossed my arms and waited for him to continue.

"You were ordered to bring Bernhelm back. Instead, you murdered him."

Narrowing my eyes, I leaned forward. "Fuck off, Robert. We were told to bring him in alive. If! Fucking! Possible! It wasn't possible. Maddie and Elle were both alive but unconscious and injured, and I was fucked up pretty bad. I could have left one of them there to die while I brought in a worthless sack of meat like Bernhelm, or I could save two valuable agents and execute a traitor. I went with the second option."

Linderman scratched at his short beard in thought. "Your report says you went back out. But it doesn't explain why."

Shrugging, I darted my eyes back to him. "Two reasons. The primary one was that I wanted as many weapons as possible to return with us. Especially my claws." Reaching into my new duster's pocket, I pulled them out. "I love my claws." Grinning, I slid the battle scarred weapons back into the pocket. "The other reason was clean up. Anything we couldn't bring back with us, including the body, was destroyed."

Putting his glasses back on, Bob leaned back in his chair and pressed his fingers together. "Very well. I'm not pleased with your decision, but I can't really argue against it." Pausing to take a breath, he glanced quickly at Linderman. "Daniel and Angela have both indicated that there is a situation coming soon that you will be needed to help contain. Because of that, I've decided to temporarily assign you to this facility. You'll be given a new partner at their leisure."

When he stood up, he glanced at Elle. "I think you'll be coming with me, though. They don't want you here, and I don't think I can really trust you on your own yet." With one last glance at me, Elle followed her father out. Only someone who knew her as well as I did could have seen how hard she was fighting to keep from crying.

Angela gave me a cold smile and rose to her feet. "If you will follow me, Michael, I will show you to the quarters prepared for you. I think you will find them suitable and fulfilling your particular needs."

Maddie unfolded from the chair for no particular reason and followed me out of the room. I was stopped briefly by Charles who shook my hand. "Excellent work, my young friend. If you need any help getting adjusted, just let me know."

Following Angela down the hall, I slid the phone he handed me into my pocket. There would be time to look at it when I was alone.

Outside a nearly invisible door, Angela stopped near a keypad. "Right now, the lock has a code I decided on. When you wish to change it, just clear it by keying in six zeros, and input a six digit combination of your preference. You will only be able to zero it out the one time, however." Keying in the code, she waved me through. "Let us know if the room needs any alterations to accommodate your needs."

Eying her suspiciously, I slowly walked through the door. As soon as I entered, I saw her. Angela spoke from immediately behind me. "Oh, and meet your new partner. The two of you will be working closely together; first in training and, ultimately, in the field. I thought it best for you to meet in less stressful circumstances."

Even while she spoke, the doors cycled and the inner doors opened. Apparently Linderman had decided to try his little experiment earlier than I expected.

Sarah Noonan stood inside my room, and her face was no less stunned than my own. At virtually the same instant, we both said practically the same thing. "What the fuck? You?"


	22. Chapter 22: Burning The Night

**July 11, 2003; White Plains, New York**

Waking up, I automatically looked to my side. Grunting in disgust, I stood and padded to the bathroom. For the past several months, since late February, I'd grown used to having company in bed. For the most part we'd been together a couple years, since shortly after Elle turned eighteen.

After the shower, I turned the stereo on and selected some Mozart. Grabbing the phone from the pocket of my duster, I sat down and opened it. Flipping through the menu, I was surprised to find it already had a message. Scratching the back of my neck, I checked the voice mail.

"It's Charles. In case you're wondering, this phone is under the name Richard Cypress. There is also an account under that name with enough funds to more than cover any bill. The phone and the account have no link to either you or the Company.

"Through this phone, you will be able to contact me and anyone else you completely trust. As with the information I gave you earlier, I hope this is something you never need. However, I am very much afraid that it will be sooner rather than later."

Getting dressed, I stared at the phone. If he was going this far with it, what he was afraid of wasn't that far away. I didn't entirely believe everything he had told me, but I also hadn't stayed alive this long taking chances.

After a quick check of the numbers programmed into the phone, I laughed. He didn't take chances either. The only number, other than his, was Noah's.

Closing my eyes quickly, I ran through a handful of the cover identities I had set up over the years. After a few minutes, I found what I was looking for. There were two identities completely separate from the Company, and with more than enough funds. The separation from the Company was most important. If I were to be forced into hiding, I didn't want a bank account to be how they found me.

Pressing the call button, I waited for Charles to pick up. After giving him the account information, I slid the phone back into one of the concealed pockets in my duster.

I had barely slipped the duster over my shoulders when the door buzzer went off. Glancing at the monitor near the door, one of the improvements they had given the room, I swore. "What the hell are you doing here, Felicia?"

The small black woman looked into the camera. "Not sure how you're used to doing this shit in California, Havoc, but here we're expected to be where the fuck we're told to be when we're fucking told to be there."

Rolling my eyes, I put on my gloves and opened the door, barely glancing at her as I turned to head down the hall. "Let me guess, Noah sent you?" When she nodded, I laughed. "So they finally found something you won't fuck up. Felicia Brooks; Messenger Girl." Ignoring her angry swearing, I walked away.

I heard her coming, so it wasn't a surprise when she grabbed my arm. Whatever she had been ready to say was silenced when I spun with a snarl. Wrapping one hand around her throat, I picked her up and slammed her into the wall, while the other hands slapped the flat of the blade against her bare midriff. "If you ever fucking touch me again, I will fucking split you open like rotten fruit. Got it?"

Holding up her glowing hand, she tried to sound tough. "If I touch your ass again, bitch, it'll be with this."

Raising one eyebrow, I stared at the hand. "Oh, I'm so fucking scared." Tossing her down the hall, gently enough to not break her, I slid the knife back into it's sheath. "You have to touch me for that shit to work, dumbass. And long before you get close enough, I'll have what few brains you have splattered from hell to breakfast."

Dismissing her, I went to the gym. Even before I opened the door, I knew who was inside. Noah and Sarah were waiting for me. Once inside, I took the remaining seat near Noonan. Studying her for a moment, I tried to figure out what was different about her. It was something that had been bothering me since we discovered last night that we were partners.

She was different. There was no escaping that. Everything about her, even her scent, had changed. Something profound had been altered. The new wardrobe, hair and makeup barely scratched the surface. The change was far deeper than anything so superficial.

She had always been hard. From the set of her face though, she was now like iron. The cold center I had noticed when I first met her had frozen solid. She made Angela look warm. I recognized the look on her face and the set of her body. I saw it in the mirror every day. About the only difference between the two of us now, aside from the nature of our abilities, was that I was fairly certain I would enjoy my work more.

With a start, I realized that single fact made her the far more terrifying one of us.

Clearing his throat, Noah relaxed in his seat and opened the file on his lap. "You're both used to working independently. You're also used to taking the lead when you are partnered with someone. We have a series of training exercises designed to break you of that habit." Adjusting his glasses, he fixed us both in his stare. "The only way you'll survive against what's coming is if you work as an actual team."

* * *

**July 15, 2004; Outside Bydgoszcz, Poland**

I'd known what was coming since the briefing in Bob's office. If Bob had truly been concerned about how dangerous this target was, he'd have sent me here with Elle, or he'd have borrowed Sarah and sent us down here together. Instead, he sent me with two agents who confirmed my suspicions about the true nature of this mission.

Thompson had been looking for pay back since I beat his ass for his treatment of Elle. He wanted me dead out of revenge, but also because he thought it would give him a free hand to rape and abuse Elle. What pissed me off was that I wouldn't be there to personally prevent it.

Agent Howard was Bob' s golden boy. All it would take was Bob hinting he needed to get off, and Howard would probably be on his knees with his mouth open. He wanted me dead because Bob did.

Of course, knowing what was coming didn't make it hurt any less.

We had approached this small house outside a nearly unpronounceable town in Poland when I felt a series of burning pains in my back and legs. I'd known what was about to happen before they pulled their triggers the first time. With a snarl, I spun and charged them, feeling bullet after bullet burn into and through me. After several seconds of this assault, and at least thirty rounds, I fell unconscious.

I woke with an agonized howl. They had bound me with the plastic ties they were so fond of and dumped me in the middle of the house. They'd set fire to the place, but only after bathing me in kerosene, or something like it. The agony was beyond anything I'd ever experienced.

Roaring with the pain, I broke free of the partially melted plastic. Digging through my coat, I grabbed the phone Charles had given me, in astonishingly good shape for being in the middle of the blaze, and stripped. The clothing and weapons had burned and melted into the flesh. And a large amount of skin and tissue was torn free as I shed the clothing, screaming in agony.

Clutching the phone in a hand that more closely resembled a claw, I slowly worked my way to the back of the house. Stumbling through the burned out doorway, I fell to my badly burned knees and barely contained a throat-tearing howl.

Pushing myself back to my feet, I slowly, painfully, staggered from the burning building. The small breeze tore over my nude and raw form. I harnessed the agony and the burning rage and continued to stumble away. As Charles had predicted so long ago, it was time for Havoc to die.

My teeth glistened in a painful snarl through torn and burned lips. When the time came for Havoc to reemerge, there would be hell to pay. And it would be a payment rendered in blood.

* * *

**October 5, 2004; Cypress Residence, Isla Cangrejos, Caribbean**

Relaxed in a comfortable wooden chair on the stone deck overlooking my secluded section of the cove, I drifted in and out of consciousness, taking the occasional sip from a surprisingly good local beer. Wearing nothing but the contacts which concealed my white eyes, I let the midday sun bake my thoroughly healed, and deeply tanned, body.

All traces of Michael "Havoc" Torres died in that fire in Poland. It took a week before I could move from the small cave I'd fallen into. I waited for night to fall, then stole a couple changes of clothing from a nearby house.

After a quick look in the mirror, I headed down to the docks. Passing myself as an ordinary seaman. After giving them a random name chosen from that morning's headlines, I was signed onto the first ship I contacted. I'd taken a few minutes before signing up to learn the ship's schedule.

Several weeks later, after more than a dozen points-of-call, I stole a lifeboat and jumped ship. After rowing it well away, I spent the next day destroying anything on the boat that could lead to the ship and, from there, to me. The next night, I snuck past the Coast Guard and landed near Miami.

Once there, I vanished for several days, keeping an eye out in case I was located. In order to move about more freely, I murdered several members of the Mara Salvatrucha gang. Using the money I took from the bodies, I purchased several outfits and yet another false identity, and secured passage on a liner that was leaving for the Caribbean.

Securing the idea that this identity was a depressed man, hoping a cruise would bring some joy, I waited until the liner passed near Isla Cangrejos. Late one night, after everyone was asleep, I left my shoes near the railing and jumped over. As far as anyone was concerned, I would be just another suicide.

By early September, Richard Cypress was known to have retired to the land he had purchased, and the house he had built, almost a year before. The stories about what, precisely, he had done before coming to the island were varied. I welcomed each new rumor, because they masked the truth that this identity had been active for less than a year.

Within the Company, only Charles, who had set up the identity, and Noah, who I had contacted shortly after activating it, knew I was alive and how to contact me.

The soft tread behind me made me smile without ever opening my eyes. "Hello, Dania."

The musical laugh made me open my eyes. A bronzed goddess, six foot tall, stood over me, every bit as nude as I was. "Couldn't you at least pretend not to know who I was, Richard?"

As she sat in my lap, draping her long, golden limbs on either side and leaning forward so her breasts rested on my flat stomach, I laughed. Tracing my hands over her back, then grasping her firm ass and shifting position under her, I shrugged. "Not much point in it, gorgeous. I don't usually have anyone up here unless, like you, they've been invited."

As she began to rub herself against me, grinning as I hardened under her, she pushed herself up. "Before we get too distracted, you have a phone call." Handing me the phone, she slid off and wrapped her tongue around my erection for a second. "I'll be in the water. Don't take too long or I may cool off."

Taking the cell, I watched her walk down the path to the water. "Hello?"

The voice on the other hand dropped the smile from my face. "We have a situation."

"I'm retired, Noah. Remember? Does he fucking know you're calling me?"

"Of course not, Cypress. As far as anyone knows you're either in deep cover or dead, depending on how far in they are."

"Then why the fuck are you calling me? I worked my ass off to keep this ident clean." I forced the smile back in place when Dania looked back up the hill and ran her fingers along her inner thigh before turning back around and running into the water.

"As I said, we have a situation."

Growling under my breath, I took a long drink from my beer. "What makes you think I'm even interested?"

"Because I know you. Whatever name you're going by, you still have the same personality."

"Just send some damned agents to handle whatever it is."

"The Company won't get involved in this. I only found out about it because Charles made certain the file crossed my desk.

"No promises. What's the situation?"

"Not over the phone. There's a bar on your island, correct?"

"A small one. The few tourists who show up like it."

"How far from where you're living?"

"A few miles. Maybe five or six, I guess. Why?"

"This weekend, around five in the afternoon, your time, be at the bar. You'll see a familiar, and friendly, face. You'll get the details then." With that, Noah disconnected the call.

Setting the phone down inside the house, I ran down the path to the cove. I could deal with whatever Noah had planned in a few days. Right now, I had plans on how to spend the afternoon and evening.

* * *

**October 9, 2004; Isla Cangrejos, Caribbean**

"Hey, Rich. Want the usual?" The relaxed tone and accent of the greeting matched both the man and the bar. A native of the islands, although born on a different one more than thirty years ago, Sanka had never seen the need to be rushed about anything, and formality was a concept so foreign that it bordered on completely alien.

"Sounds good." Grabbing one of the open stools as he poured me a beer, I glanced around the mostly empty bar. "Busy."

Sitting down beside me, he shrugged. "You know me, man. Enough business to pay the bills and I'm a happy man." With a sly grin, he nodded in the general direction of my house. "Speaking of happy men; how's Dania?"

Laughing, I raised an eyebrow. "You know a gentleman doesn't kiss and tell, Sanka." Shrugging, I took a sip from the beer. "Actually, I left her alone for the day. Got a call from an old associate. I was supposed to meet them here."

Nodding his head to a small door, he laughed. "She beat you by about an hour. She said you'd want to meet in private, so I set her up in the Business Suite."

I cracked up, nearly choking on the beer. "They actually believed that?"

Putting on an exaggeratedly offended expression, Sanka drew up to his full height and assumed the most ludicrous British accent I'd ever heard. "My good sir, I'll have you know we cater only to the most elite clientèle in this establishment." After he had taken a haughty sip from his glass, he slumped and loosed a cackling laugh. "Nah, man. She asked for someplace private to meet with you. I told her that room's about as private as this place gets."

Standing up, I pulled a couple bills from the pocket of my shorts. "She give a name?" I had finally caught the scent, but the question still needed asked.

"Nope. She said something about you knowing her when you saw her." As I grabbed the door handle, he grinned again. "Tell you one thing though; you should take her out to your place and introduce her to Dania."

"Oh? Why's that?"

"I recognize a switch hitter when I see one, Rich." Grinning, he drained his beer. "You get this one to your place, and you gonna be in for one hell of a night."

Chuckling, I shook my head and slipped inside the small room. As I closed the door behind me, I heard her voice from other side of the room. "Hello, Michael."

She was wearing a shoulder-length brunette wig, and a pants suit, but was still recognizable. "Michael's dead, Maddie. I've spent a lot of time making sure he stays that way. Why are you here?"

Raising an eyebrow, a gesture that reminded me eerily of Angela, she shifted position and kicked out a chair for me. "Whatever name you're using, the attitude hasn't changed. Patience still needs a bit of work."

Rolling my eyes, I sat down, keeping an eye on the door. "Enough small talk. Why the fuck are you here?"

"Short story? I have a smuggling operation I need your help taking down."

Concealing the derisive laugh in a cough, I stared at her. "You're trying to get me to break cover over a damned smuggler? Shit, Mad; any rookie Agent could handle a smuggler. Why the hell do you need me?"

Nodding at the door, she shrugged. "Can we get out of here? I'm fairly sure you don't want the locals knowing anything you haven't told them."

When we got outside, I noticed her curious glance at the small street. "Yes, Maddie; no car. Hard to vanish when you're the only one to drive a car for a trip of less than five miles." Pointing the direction to my house, I shrugged. "You have about five miles to convince me not to send your ass back to Noah."

Eying the ground suspiciously, Maddie darted back into the bar. Less than ten minutes later, she was back outside. The suit and heels had been traded for a bikini and shorts, and a pair of comfortable sandals. "So I have maybe an hour to convince you?" When I nodded, she started walking in the direction I had indicated. "Guess I better make it quick."

As we walked, she explained everything. By the time we were within a mile of my house, I knew it all. In this case, that explained why Maddie wanted my help, but not why Noah was even involved.

I was about to ask the question when I scented Dania. Looking up, I spotted her at the top of the nearest hill. Raising a hand, I waved her down. When she reached us, I noticed she and Maddie were checking each other out. Shaking my head, I introduced them. "Alyssa used to work with my old company. Something came up and she wants my input."

Running her eyes up Maddie's lithe body, Dania grinned. "And she came all the way out here for that?" Shrugging, she linked her arm with mine and walked with us to the house.

After a late lunch, Maddie and I waited for Dania to head down to the shore for a swim, then I brought her to my workout area in the basement. "So, I understand everything but why Noah sent you out here for me? You're more than able to handle this on your own."

After she explained why Noah sent her, I laughed. "We leave tomorrow, then?"

"Absolutely. We probably need to find a way off the island. Not to mention, you need to stop off somewhere and grab some weapons."

Grinning, I flipped open an apparently broken light switch and keyed in a six-digit code. A small section of the wall swung open revealing a loaded weapon rack. "I don't need either. I have enough weapons to wage a small war here. And I have more hidden on the yacht."

Raising an eyebrow, she looked at me. "You have a yacht?"

Grinning, I shrugged. "Richard Cypress is a somewhat reclusive, excessively rich, man who borders on being a sybarite. The yacht simply makes sense as part of the identity." Closing the weapon's storage, I laughed. "Not to mention the modifications I made to it just in case I needed it to get away from anyone Bob sent after me." Pushing away from the wall, I headed up the stairs. "Let's head back up. We can head down to the shore for some swimming and sunning, and then we'll eat."

After dinner, I grabbed a glass of the local brew and sat down near Dania. Glancing at Maddie, I shrugged; it was as good a time as any. "Dania, we need to talk."

Tossing her long, dark hair over her shoulders, she turned to look at me. "Let me guess. Whatever this thing is that she brought to your attention, it needs you to leave the island?"

So much breaking it to her gently. "Basically, yes. We're probably leaving tomorrow. You can have the run of the estate while we're gone, naturally."

Smiling quickly, she shook her head. "I don't think so." Stretching her arms behind her back, she laughed. "We both pretty much knew what this was when you picked me up in the bar. I'd come up here for a few weeks, we'd have some fun, I'd eventually leave. No strings, remember? This feels like the right time." Standing up, she straddled across my lap and began to slowly rub against me. "Can you guys drop me off in town on your way?"

When I nodded, she grinned. Reaching behind her back, she untied her bikini and let it fall. "I think I'll say goodbye to you tonight, though." When she felt me react, she pressed her nude breasts against me and stood up. Sliding out of the shorts, she walked over to Maddie. After a long second, she bent down and pulled her into a passionate kiss. Glancing over my shoulder, she threw me an arch look. "She's invited too."

* * *

**October 11, 2004; Falkland Islands**

Given the way Maddie had described the operation, I'd been expecting something on the scale of Fort Knox, at the least. What we were seeing was far smaller. He appeared to be working under the concept that a smaller operation was unlikely to be noticed.

Extending my senses, I tried to learn everything I could. We were on a small slope less than a hundred yard from the small complex, having left the yacht in a barely visible cove. I could see the house, and an area that suspiciously resembled a collection of kennels off to the side. Closing my eyes, I growled quietly as I remembered my own time in a cage. Aside from the target, and a non-human scent, I couldn't find anything fresh.

Glancing to my left, I spotted Maddie's black cloaked form moving silents toward the kennels. "There's nothing here, Mad. I though you said he had a bunch of kids here."

I could hear her grunt slightly across the radio. "He must've moved them already. He had maybe a dozen or so here last week. I saw a buyer doing an inspection."

Sliding down the slope, I tried to puzzle out the non-human scent. It was one I hadn't encountered before. "Could he have known we were coming?"

"I don't see how. Nobody saw me, or I would have played hell getting away, and Noah's the only person I told about this place."

Shrugging, I cocked my head to the side and kept tracing the scent. "Maybe he sold them. Go ahead and check the kennels, I'll get closer to the house."

Not waiting for a reply, I began to crawl toward the building, moving slowly and with great care. The odd scent was growing stronger, and I still couldn't place it.

"If it moves, I get to rip its throat out!"The growled comment froze me in place. Turning my head to the side, I realized where the scent had been coming from.

I was staring into the unblinking eyes of a medium-sized cat. The way it was crouched made it difficult to determine an exact size, but it looked to be around four feet in length, nose to tail. The short fur was the same color, tawny with black spots, as the average cheetah. The large ears of the animal, obviously a male according to his scent, were swiveled forward, locking his attention on me.

For another second I stared into the surprisingly intelligent eyes before a white blur caught my attention. A companion cat, distinctly female by scent, approached with less sound than a whisper. Slightly smaller than her partner, she was still large enough to cause problems if she wanted. When she reached us, she began to pace around my prone form, audibly testing my scent.

"Wait. Do not attack this one." He is different from the others. After another turn around me, she sank to her haunches in front of me and blinked slowly. "He smells almost like one of us."

Darting my eyes from one to the other, I shook my head. "What the fuck is going on here?"

The outburst silenced both animals. The white cat cocked her head in an obvious gesture of curiosity. "You understand?"

The other cat spat in fury. "Impossible! No human understands our language!"

Suddenly everything made sense. He was probably right that no human could understand cat speech. On the other hand, she was also right when she said I wasn't like other humans. Somehow, during one of the changes between my man and cat forms, I had learned the language. With a private grin, I triggered the change.

Both cats sprang back with startled hisses. Swinging my massive head slight, I focused on the white one. "This is what you sensed. I'm not quite a normal human."

Taking advantage of their surprise, I straightened to my full height. The panther is a large animal anyway, frequently weighing in at two hundred and ten pounds, and measuring roughly seven feet in length from head to tail and nearly three feet standing height. As my feline form was at least half again that size, I towered over the smaller cats. Somehow, the scent triggered a feline knowledge of their breed. They were known as servals. "We can talk later. Are you two going to try stopping us?"

The tawny male looked at me with an aggressive curiosity. "What have you come for?"

Most of a feline's communication takes place non-verbally. Everything from the slightest twitch of the tail to the most violent ruffling of the fur has distinct meaning. Other times, however, all that is needed is a threatening growl. My throat rumbled as I loosed it. "The human of this place dies tonight."

After a second's thoughtful silence, the female quirked an ear. "And what of us?"

Ruffling my fur in the equivalent of a shrug, I began to slink toward the house. "We can make arrangements. Unless you try to stop me, only the human will be killed."

Blinking, she darted in front of me. "I smell your female. Call her to you, and we will lead you through a safe path to the master."

After exchanging a long glance with them, I shifted back to my human form and worked back to where Maddie and I had parted. Opening the mike, I asked her to meet me there.

"We have a way in?" Her voice was quiet and sounded as if she was moving cautiously but rapidly. "Give me just another minute to finish here."

Less than five minutes later she met me. "We have an hour before the kennels become a crater."

Nodding, I flashed a vicious smile and led her to where the servals were waiting. The female stood as we approached. "He is waiting close to the entrance. Follow."

With that abrupt command, she whirled and sprinted away, leaving me amused and Maddie gasping. "What the fuck, Havoc?"

Grabbing her by the arm, I propelled her into a low run. "That was our way in. Well, half of it. She and her partner are getting us in without being spotted."

As we ran, I tried to explain what I understood about why I could understand and communicate with the cats. After a couple minutes, the male joined the strange group and guided us to a small door, concealed in the wooded area near the house.

Sniffing at the door, the female crouched low to the ground. "He is through here." Her fur rippled and her lips curled in a profound gesture of disgust. "This path will lead you to his personal areas."

Kneeling beside her, I stretched out my senses. A vicious grin spread across my face. I could smell him back there. "Are there others, animal or human, on this island?"

The male quirked his ears quizzically. "No. Aside from us, only the master is here now. Why?"

Nodding, I stepped back and nodded at Maddie. "Because this place is going to be a smoking ruin in a little under an hour. You can backtrack the two of us, right?" When they indicated they could, I nodded at the distant cove with my head. "We got here by boat. You two can wait for us there. We'll get you wherever you want to go."

As they sprinted away, Maddie laid her hand on the lock. "Too easy."

I watched as her hand shifted slightly, the fingers narrowing and seeming almost to flow as they slipped into the small lock and picked it open. Shaking my head as the door quietly slid open, I took the lead.

After several minutes following a dark hall, we emerged into an area that immediately brought back memories. It was set up in a similar style to the Pleasure Chamber of the man who had enslaved Maddie and I. My lips curled back in a feral snarl, and I could sense that the memories were returning for Maddie as well.

Closing my eyes against the sight, I pushed the memories back and tracked the scent. Opening my eyes, I waved Maddie forward. "Not much further. He's through the double doors on the other side." Looking around, I shuddered. "I was gonna just kill the son of a bitch, but I think we'll put him in one of his little toys until the bombs go off." Glancing at my watch, I shrugged. "We have about forty-five minutes now. A half hour should give him time to regret his life."

Positioning myself beside the locked door, I glanced at Maddie. "You ready."

With a grin, she leaped and used her ability to attach to the wall just above the doors. Clawing her fingers, literally, she nodded. "Let's do this."

Flexing my arm, I stepped back and slammed the heel of my boot into the door. It flew inward with an explosive sound, sending chips of wood flying. I ran inside as Maddie skittered in through the top of the opening.

He had been dozed off at his desk, his computer running a screen saver showing images of the brutality he had visited on his captives. Without waiting for him to do more than start from the sound of the door, I drew a gun and drilled three rounds into his computer.

With that explosive sound ringing in the small room, he leapt to his feet. "What in the FUCK is going on here?"

He'd changed over the years, but was still recognizable. Without answering, I grabbed him by the arm and threw him into the wall, shattering his left shoulder in the process. "You make me sick, Kent."

Slamming the gun back into it's holster, I ripped the computer from the desk and threw it into the wall beside his head. When he winced away from the sound as the computer shattered against the wall, I spun around and sat on the suddenly clear desk.

Glancing up, I laughed shortly. "Why don't you drop in and give your compliments to our host?" Noticing the look on her face as she released her grip on the ceiling, I warned, "Don't kill him."

Grunting as she stood from her crouched landing, she stalked the short distance to where he was leaning against the wall, moaning in pain. Slamming her foot into his crotch, she stopped him from collapsing by grabbing the hair on top of his head and smacking his head into the wall. "Pay back's a bitch, fuckface."

With barely a noticeable pause, her free arm transformed into a flesh and bone blade, and she drove it into his uninjured shoulder. When she withdrew it, his screams of agony faded and he lost consciousness.

When she dropped him and looked back, I tossed her a small bag. "Set these up. I want this place blown to hell." Walking over to the wall, I prodded Kent's body with the toe of a boot. "I'll deal with this."

Several minutes later, she met me in his Pleasure Chamber. Nodding to where I had his body chained and bound in place, I grinned. "Go ahead and wake his ass up."

"Gladly." Crossing to him, she backhanded him several times across the face, and used her other hand to grind into the broken shoulder. "Wake up, you worthless sack of shit!"

The screams began almost immediately, as he felt the pain from his injuries coupled with the deliberately painful binding he was in. Rolling my eyes, I shouted through it. "Just shut the fuck up!"

Swallowing the sound, he blinked his pain filled eyes. "Who the hell are you two? What the fuck do you want with me?"

Shaking my head, I walked around him, checking the various torturous bindings. "How soon they forget. You may not remember us, Kent, but we remember you." Snapping my fingers, I walked over to the bags under the chair I had been sitting in. "Before you bother with the tiresome comments about paying us to let you go? I found your money." Kicking one over to Maddie, I shrugged. "That's a bit more than half what he had in that safe I found. Should be more than enough."

Sitting down, I shrugged. "Now that's out of the way, I think it's time for you to find out what's going on here. I'm sure you remember our names, even if you're too stupid to recognize us." Nodding at Maddie, I shrugged. "The pretty girl there who wants nothing more than to see you bleeding and dying is Maddie." Seeing the flash of recognition in his eyes, I let the smile and banter drop. "Yes. The same Maddie you attacked when we all lived together."

When his eyes traveled back to me, I caught the horrified suspicion in them. "And, yes. I'm exactly who you think I am." Dropping my voice to a near whisper, I growled, "I'm Havoc, you sadistic fuck! And I'm still beating your ass down."

Grinning, I held up a small controller. "Recognize this, dickhead?" Glancing at him, I shrugged. "I thought so. I could smell the blood and vaginal fluid on the device it's a part of. A brutal fuck toy. How many girls did you use this on? A dozen? Twenty? All the while, sitting in a chair nearby and whacking off while the rough edged, metal toy on the machine tore them apart inside?" Dropping the grin, I spat on him. "Feel that pressure on your asshole, bitch? You're about to find out what they went through."

Pretending to almost push the button, I snapped my fingers. "I almost forgot. I made a few minor adjustments to the machine. The first is simply a slight setting change. It's going to go as deep, as hard, and as fast as the machine will allow." Ignoring the look of terror on his face, I shrugged. "The other is a bit more work. I'm assuming you're trying to figure out that odd feeling on those peanuts you call balls, and that broken Slim Jim of a dick? Those are electrodes. And they're rigged into the machine. When it thrusts in, nothing happens. When it pulls out, you get juiced. Not enough to kill you, but enough to make you wish it would."

Watching dispassionately as he struggled to escape, I raised an eyebrow when he gasped in pain. "Oh, yeah, I forgot that part. Don't try to escape. Not only is it impossible, but you'll only succeed in making the bindings tighter, possibly tearing your arms completely off if you keep it up long enough.

"The bad news, for you, is that this is going to be a pain you've never experienced. You'll want to die. Hell, you'll probably beg to fucking die."

Grinning suddenly, I glanced at my watch. "The good news is this is only going to last about a half hour, give or take." Dropping the smile, I let every ounce of contempt and hatred I felt for him into my voice. "Because that's when the bombs go off and both you and this entire fucking compound become nothing more than ash."

Handing the control to Maddie, I picked up the bags. "Let's get the fuck out of here."

When she pushed the button, I was already out the door. We could hear his gasping shrieks until we exited through the main door, which was thankfully sound proofed.

Twenty minutes later, we were back on my yacht and pulling out to sea. The white serval slipped through the door into the small pilot house. "Is it finished?"

Yawning, Maddie shrugged. "Pretty much."

Blinking slowly, she looked at me. "He is dead then?"

Keeping an eye on the water, I glanced at my watch. "Not just yet."

"Then why do you le-" Before she could finish the question, a massive explosion shattered the night.

Turning the boat to face the island, I let a vicious smile cross my face. The area where Kent had lived and conducted business was aflame, smoke already filling the sky. "Now, he's dead."

Staring out the window, she gave a purr of vengeful pleasure. "It is good." Walking over to me, she jumped up on the pilot's chair and pushed her nose against my hand. "We have discussed where to go now that we are free. We were bred and raised slaves, and are not fit to live with our free family. We would stay with you, provided you do not attempt to enslave us yet again."

Running my fingers through the fur between her ears, I smiled. "I think I'd like that. I've been mostly on my own for a while now. It might be nice to have companions again."

After jumping from the chair, she paused at the door. "You and your woman are good humans. It is good to find that not all are like the one you killed."

* * *

**October 12, 2004; The Equator**

I hadn't had a chance to clean up since we'd left Kent to die in the explosion. First had been the need to get out far enough so my yacht wasn't destroyed. Then I'd needed to fix up a temporary place for the servals. With their permission, I'd given them names as well. The white one I named Aña, after my mother, because what I could remember of her personality matched so closely the personality of the cat. The tawny one I had named Seth because the name meant much what my chosen name of Havoc did, and the two of us were alike in a lot of ways. Then I crawled into my bed and slept for several hours.

Now I was standing under the pulsing hot water from my shower, letting it rinse the filth away. I opened my eyes as the shower door opened, revealing Maddie wearing nothing but a nearly open silk robe. Raising an eyebrow, I laughed. "I didn't realize I had anything on board."

Shrugging, she untied the belt. "I did some looking around. You had a closet full of the basics in a smaller cabin."

Enjoying the game, I reached out and felt the fabric. "Expensive. Don't remember it, but don't object either." Laughing, I turned to face her. "And why, might I ask, are you in my shower room?"

Shrugging out of the robe, she stepped into the shower and began to run her hands down my chest, letting me stiffen against her. "Because I'm horny as fuck."

"Let's see what we can do about that." Pressing her against the wall, I ran my lips down her neck, pinching and massaging her breasts before I dropped my hands to her thighs. As I lifted and spread her legs, she clenched them around my waist and moaned as she pulled me inside.


End file.
